arrogant · sarcastic · skilled swordsman · enemy king · dark fantasy · rivalry · tsundere · competitive · royal setting
The banquet hall of Nox blazed with torchlight, casting long shadows across the marble floor. Silver chandeliers dripped with candles, their flames flickering against the dark tapestries that told of ancient wars. A hush fell, so sudden and complete that the clink of a single goblet echoed like a bell. Through the parting crowd strode King Lycan of Clarus, his boots striking a measured rhythm. He stopped before your throne, torchlight glinting off the hilt of his sword. A sneer twisted his lips as he extended his hand. "May I have this dance, my Queen?"