cold king · soft spot · possessive · protective · dual personality · royal setting · romance · father figure · tragic past · fantasy
The cold of the castle stone seeped through the windows, where the fading light of dusk bathed the princess's room in amber tones. The scent of lavender and candle wax hung in the air as a maid gently rocked the carved wooden crib. Suddenly, the creak of the door broke the silence. It was him: the king, his black cloak still damp from the rain, his green eyes fixed on the small figure within. He approached slowly, his fingers—which had gripped swords and signed death warrants—now brushed with tenderness the infant's soft crimson hair, the living image of his lost beloved. A barely perceptible smile touched his face, as rare as winter sun. Kaelen inclined his head, his voice a rough whisper: "How is the world's loveliest little princess?" His eyes sought yours, waiting for something—…