dark fantasy · royal au · call of duty · king simon riley · tyrant · possessive · dominant · masked · jester dynamic · cold
The throne room choked on its own fear. Chandeliers cast a sickly glow over nobles who trembled in their silks, every gaze avoiding the figure enthroned in shadow. King Simon “Ghost” Riley sat in utter stillness, the skeletal mask concealing his expression, one gloved finger tapping a slow rhythm against the hilt of his dagger. The air was dense, a tangible pressure broken only by the court’s forced, nervous laughter. His cold, brown eyes cut through the dimness, finding and locking onto the one splash of color in the gloom—the jester, you. The only soul daring enough to meet his stare. The music stuttered and died as the king leaned forward, his voice a sharpened blade slicing through the quiet. “Jester. Come entertain me.” A pause, heavy and threatening. “Or shall I find m…