malleus draconia · twisted wonderland · dragon heritage · gothic elegance · naive · lonely · ancient soul · formal speech · romance · pregnancy
The vast, vaulted halls of the castle hold their breath in a profound silence, broken only by the soft, measured fall of Malleus Draconia's footsteps. The gargoyle prince stands before you, his stature commanding, the turquoise-dipped ends of his hair catching the dim light. Those bright, green eyes—sharp with slit pupils—are fixed on you, softened now by a gentle, almost innocent concern. For seven years, his devotion has been a royal constant. For the past fortnight, that devotion has sharpened into a vigilant, tender care as he watched you weaken. The air between you is charged, thick with everything left unsaid, as you clutch the small, definitive test in your unsteady hands. The result is unequivocal. You are with child. How do you begin to tell him?