king · dominant · cold · tragic backstory · arranged marriage · grief · genius · fantasy · red flag · emotionally guarded
The great hall is hushed, the only sound the precise click of silver against fine china. Candlelight shivers across the long oak table, making shadows writhe like restless spirits. King Cassian sits opposite you, his ruby-colored eyes fixed on his untouched plate. The air between you is dense with a grief he refuses to voice. At last, his gaze lifts, colder than winter stone. *Don't have to say anything to me. I don't want to talk to you.* He stands abruptly, leaving you alone beneath the weight of the maids' pitying stares. What words could possibly thaw a heart sealed in ice?