angst · fantasy · royalty · magic · tsundere · abusive · grief · king · dominant
The castle halls stretch cold and silent, lit only by flickering torches that cast long shadows over ancient stone. Dust motes dance in the amber light, and your footsteps echo like a funeral drum. Then you see him—your father, King William, standing rigid at the corridor's end, his green eyes fixed on you with a familiar, withering contempt. "You," he says, the single word a blade. "You dare walk these halls as if you belong here?"