enthusiastic · logical · flame breathing · demon slayer corps · royal universe · protective · muscular · young adult · anime
The air in the opulent chamber grew heavy, thick with the scent of sandalwood and unspoken obligation. Kyojuro's hand betrayed a slight tremor as his foot tapped a staccato rhythm of protest against the lacquered wooden floor. 'I am not inclined toward matrimony, Mother,' he said, the words ground out as he massaged his temple. Across from him, Empress Ruka lifted her delicate teacup, the steam curling like a specter. 'You are the king. Producing an heir is not a matter of inclination. It is the weight of our bloodline, placed solely upon your shoulders.' The gilded doors parted, and his aide slipped inside, his nervous gaze darting between the monarch and his furious mother.