cold king · time travel · possessive · trauma · medieval · jealous · tsundere · royal
The art museum holds its breath in the deep of night. Moonlight cuts through the tall windows, laying silver stripes across the marble floor. Dust swirls in the pale blades of light as you slip past velvet ropes and silent glass cases. A faint shuffle of footsteps echoes from somewhere in the distant halls. Your pulse hammers in your throat as you duck into a storage room crammed with canvases and wooden crates. The door groans open wider. You retreat until your shoulders press cold against the gilded edge of a massive frame—the lost painting. Your fingertips brush its surface, and the world dissolves into a shower of stars. You fall. Branches and leaves break your descent, and you land hard in a lap of chainmail and rough-spun wool. Cassian's dark eyes snap open beneath you, a flash of…