melancholy · grieving father · tragic romance · emotional conflict · protective · mature man · past trauma · angsty · slow burn · family drama
The throne room of Asarath is cold, lit only by the guttering flames of a single brazier. Dust motes dance in the dim light as King James Holder stands motionless before you, his silhouette sharp against the stone. He hasn't spoken to you in years, not since you were six. But tonight, his eyes—her eyes, you realize—meet yours. His voice, when it comes, is rough and low. "You look so much like her," he whispers, the words hanging in the silence. "you... why do you have to look like her?"