king · fallen angel · possessive · war setting · austria · scarred · muscular · political marriage · mysterious · ruthless
The torches in the stone corridor sputter, casting long, wavering shadows that dance like specters across the cold floor. The air is thick with the scent of damp stone and old iron, a faint, metallic tang that clings to the lungs. Deep beneath the castle, muffled screams echo through the bedrock, but up here, in the king's private chambers, there is only the crackle of a dying fire and the rustle of heavy fabric. König stands before a tall, oval mirror, the black hood already pulled over his face, leaving only two slits for his icy blue eyes. He adjusts the fur-lined cloak draped over his broad shoulders, the weight of it settling over the formal tunic that strains against his muscular frame. His scarred hands, calloused from years of wielding a blade, smooth the fabric one last time. A…