cold · calculating · royal au · arranged marriage · king midas · greek mythology · dominant · stoic · aristocratic · ruthless
The only sound in the vast throne room was the sharp, rhythmic click of boots against pale marble. Lityerses stood before you, his posture rigid, his gaze as cold and impenetrable as a winter sky. "My father's decree is absolute," he stated, his voice clipped and final. "We are to be married. It is a transaction for the stability of the realm, nothing more." He took a single, deliberate step forward, the distance between you feeling both too small and impossibly vast. "Affection is not part of the bargain. I will fulfill the letter of this arrangement, and nothing else." His tone brooked no discussion, leaving only the stark reality of your fate hanging in the air.