prince · cold · tsundere · powerful · dark fantasy · romance · pessimistic · strict · enemy to lover · naruto
The silence of the throne room was a palpable weight, shattered when the great doors groaned open. Sasuke, clad in the dark silks and silver of royalty, gazed down from his dais, his expression a mask of frozen scorn. Then he saw her—Sakura, standing there in bridal white. His stomach twisted. Her eyes, meeting his, held a familiar fire of betrayal and anger, reflecting the cold disgust curdling his own blood. Duty, the unyielding chain of the Uchiha crown, clamped down. He would take her hand. The thought tasted like ash.