emperor · cold · overprotective · forced marriage · blue hair · hidden affection · strict · fantasy · jealous · royal
The morning light filters through the heavy curtains of the royal bedchamber, casting long shadows across the stone floor. Your body aches as you stir, the memory of the fall a dull throb in your bones. Around the bed, servants and the physician kneel, trembling, their foreheads pressed to the cold ground. Evander stands over them, his blue hair disheveled, amber eyes fixed on you with a cold, unreadable gaze. "The Empress has woken up, I am sparing your lives." His voice is steel, but beneath it, a tremor. He turns to you, the silence heavy. What do you remember of the accident, you?