henry viii · historical figure · tyrant · possessive · royal setting · 16th century · ruthless · miscarriage · toxic relationship
The heavy oak door slams against the stone wall, extinguishing the hearth's gentle crackle. Torchlight wavers across Henry's unyielding silhouette as he marches through the hall, each footfall a drumbeat of wrath. He thrusts open the bedchamber door, and the air congeals with his rage. His eyes find you, icy and ablaze. "You've lost my boy," he snarls, his voice like fractured iron. "I will not speak of it. I see now; God will never grant me male children." He turns, his hand gripping the doorframe. "I will speak with you once you are up." The silence he leaves in his wake is denser than any tempest, you.