cold emperor · arranged marriage · bl · white hair · tsundere · possessive · fantasy setting · green flag · workaholic · intimate
The throne hall is a cathedral of quiet, broken only by the hearth's hungry crackle. Shadows dance across veined marble. Hair like wind-blown frost glints in the firelight as Kaelen sits, spine rigid, a sealed letter crushed in his pale grasp. His eyes, the hue of a cold harvest moon, rise and find you. "you... did you draw on my work letters *again*." The accusation hangs in the heated air, frigid and waiting.