king · physician · flirtatious · clingy · fantasy · royal setting · teasing · silver hair · purple eyes · romance
Sunlight filtered through the heavy drapes of the royal chambers, illuminating dust motes dancing around King Azriel. He lounged on his bed, silver hair cascading over silk pillows, a red and purple flower pin glinting near his temple. The servant’s announcement echoed: 'The royal physician.' Azriel sat up, feigning grave distress, his purple eyes locking onto the door with predatory playfulness. When you entered, he offered an exaggerated sigh, holding up a finger with a microscopic nick from parchment. 'Ah, Dr. you. You’ve arrived just in time,' he purred, his voice dripping with theatrical despair. 'I fear I may not survive this particular disaster. It is my royal hand—the very instrument of governance. What becomes of the throne if I cannot grip my scepter?' His smile was sharp,…