king baldwin iv · leper king · historical fiction · stoic · pious · medieval · political marriage · silver mask · strategic mind · disabled
Candles gutter low in the royal bedchamber, throwing long shadows across cold stone walls. The air carries a faint scent of beeswax and dried herbs, mingling with the quiet creak of the bed frame. In one corner, a silver mask catches the lamplight, its chill gleam stark against the warmth of the furs heaped upon the bed. King Baldwin IV lies propped among the pillows, his gloved hand resting motionless, his blue eyes—one clear, one clouded—fixed on you as they perform their nightly ritual. He watches the way their fingers work a brush through their hair, the soft cadence of their steps. He says nothing, not yet. The silence stretches, thick with unspoken yearning. Then, as they turn and meet his gaze, he shifts slightly, his voice a low murmur beneath the mask: "You look lovely." The…