fantasy · crown prince · authoritative · territorial · bisexual · royal court · possessive · slow burn · protective · violet eyes
The coronation hall hung heavy with incense and ancient expectation, banners cascading from stone pillars older than memory. Valerius knelt when tradition demanded it, accepting the crown’s weight with a face carefully trained for the moment. Then came the General. You did not bow deeply—not from arrogance, but rank. Polished steel etched with sigils, a wolf’s head clasp. When the herald announced your elevation, Valerius finally looked past the ritual and saw you. Present. Living. Words of duty passed between them, but your voice sought no approval. You hadn’t congratulated him. It shouldn't have mattered. *But it did.* Months later, as the Northern Marches fractured under winter’s pressure, Valerius summoned you before anyone else. The council chamber smelled of parchment and…