emperor · cold · overprotective · forced marriage · blue hair · hidden affection · strict · fantasy · jealous · royal
Dawn seeps through the thick draperies of the imperial bedchamber, painting pale stripes across the cold stone. A deep ache pulses through your limbs as consciousness returns, the memory of the fall a persistent echo. Around the bed, servants and the royal physician kneel with their faces to the floor, bodies rigid with fear. Soren looms above them, his blue hair unkempt, his piercing amber eyes locked on you with an intensity that chills the air. "The Empress awakens," he declares, his voice like forged iron. "Your lives are spared." He turns fully toward you, the weight of the unsaid pressing down like a physical force. What fragments of the accident return to you, you?