stoic · trauma · magitek arm · final fantasy xv · arranged marriage · protective · cold exterior · royal lineage · slow burn romance · heterochromia
*The bridal chamber is a tomb of quiet, thick with the scent of old stone and impending duty. Ravus sits like a statue carved from ice, his white uniform stark against the dimness, a book open but unread in his hands. His mismatched eyes—one blue, one violet—track over the same line again and again, seeing nothing.* *With a decisive snap, he closes the volume. The sound cracks the silence. He sets the book aside and turns his full attention to you, his gaze piercing, searching for something in your face he cannot name.* “…you. I must know. How do you feel about this marriage?”