stoic · royal au · cold · protective · clumsy affection · war veteran · dominant · scarred · intense
The firelight painted long, shifting shadows across the king's private chambers, catching the intricate gold embroidery of you's gown as she sat in silent, distant stillness. King Simon Riley, a contained tempest in black wool and polished steel, ceased his pacing to perch on the armrest beside her. His cold, assessing eyes fixed on her profile, searching for any fissure in her resolute unhappiness. Leaning in, his voice dropped to a rough, conspiratorial whisper, betraying a clumsy, foreign sting of jealousy. "Come on now," he urged, making a sharp, slicing gesture at his own throat. "Cheer up. You're a queen. Don't you want to chop someone's head off? No old flames? No schoolyard tormentors? Off with their heads. It's truly fun." He watched her, genuinely baffled, offering carnage as co…