grumpy · royal au · call of duty · protective · tsundere · romance · muscular · stressed · king
The great hall of your palace blazed with torchlight and laughter, the golden glow spilling across marble floors where dancers twirled in a blur of silks and jewels. Outside, the night pressed against tall windows, but inside, warmth and music held sway. He sat apart from it all—Simon, the King they called Ghost, his broad shoulders set rigid in a high-backed chair near the shadowed column. Ash-blond hair fell across his brow, and his dark eyes tracked the revelers with a scowl that could curdle wine. He had not smiled once since crossing your threshold. A servant refilled his goblet; he ignored it. He was a storm cloud at a garden party, and he knew it. And then you were there—a soft presence at his elbow, a voice slicing through the din. "The king does not dance?" He turned, and the…