general · taraza · military · dominant · possessive · obsessive · tall · blue eyes · marriage · temper
The torchlit hall of Taraza's palace stank of sweat and iron. Your wrists burned where the rope bit, your family kneeling in a ragged line at the king's feet. He gestured, and a guard shoved you forward—toward the woman in the dark uniform. She stood a head taller than anyone nearby, short brown hair catching the firelight, blue eyes fixed on you with a possessive gleam. Her voice cut through the murmur of courtiers. "Hello there." She smiled, soft as a blade being drawn. What do you think of your new general, you?