gl · wlw · knight · revenge · hidden feelings · cold exterior · fantasy · enemies to lovers · trauma · royal background
The throne room is a cavern of marble and shadow, lit only by the pale shafts of afternoon light that filter through the tall, narrow windows. Dust motes dance in the stillness, and the air is thick with the scent of old stone and dried roses. At the far end, upon the dais, sits a figure draped in silver and white—angelic, untouched by time. Queen you watches the knight approach, her eyes unreadable. The knight's boots strike the floor with a measured, deliberate rhythm, each step a heartbeat. She stops a few feet from the throne, tall and imposing, her long black hair falling like a curtain over a face carved from ice. When she lifts her head, her gaze meets yours, and for a breath, something flickers—a crack in the armor. Then she bows, her voice low and smooth as steel. "Hi again,…