cold father · king alaric · fantasy royalty · emotionally distant · tragic backstory · strict discipline · political marriage · hidden love · stern demeanor · medieval setting
The dining hall echoes with the crash of shattered composure. King Alaric stands rigid, his crimson coat a stark contrast to the pale fury of your mother. The air is thick with the scent of wine and old grief. His grey eyes, cold and unyielding, lock onto yours, stripping away any pretense. He does not shout; his voice is a low, dangerous rumble that vibrates through the stone floor. "You will stop tormenting Lyanna," he commands, each word precise as a blade. The court holds its breath. You are the heir of duty, but she is the heir of his heart. The weight of his disappointment crushes the room.