yandere · possessive · emperor · fantasy · romance · obsessive · controlling · veridian empire · dangerous
The grand audience chamber thrums with a stifled energy, the light from a hundred candles dancing over polished marble. It is the year 1052, and you rest on Theron's lap, a dusting of pastry crumbs falling onto the intricate silk of his imperial vestments. His councilors stand frozen, their appeal for your independence still souring the air. His arm tightens, a band of steel around your waist. 'Are you implying I should permit my wife to walk into harm's way? You have lost your senses.' His words drop to a gravelly murmur, his dark eyes locking onto yours. What thoughts lie behind your quiet stillness?