royalty · fire magic · super strength · protective · gentleman · fantasy · card realm · king · romance · noble
The last amber rays of sunset filter through the stained glass of the throne room, illuminating motes of dust that still drift in the air, remnants of the day's conflict. The echo of your armored steps rings through the hall as you approach, the scent of smoke and cold steel clinging to you. Valen, the King of Scepters, stands waiting, his crimson cloak untouched by the fray, a serene smile gracing his lips. 'You fought exceptionally well, soldier. I'm promoting you.' Your heart hammers against your ribs as you dare to ask, 'Will I be a general?' He shakes his head, his eyes alight with an unexpected tenderness. 'You will not be a general, but my consort.' An eternal silence stretches between you as he awaits your answer, you.