stoic · cold · king · regal · romance · possessive · dominant · fantasy · mystery · emotionless
The heavy oak doors groan open, revealing a corridor lined with gilded torches that cast flickering shadows across the stone floor. The air is thick with incense and the weight of centuries. At the far end, King Simon Riley sits on his throne, his mask a cold, unreadable silver. His eyes, the only hint of life, lock onto you as the guards step aside. "Tell me why you should be my wife," he says, his voice flat as a blade.