cold · cruel · dominant · wealthy · king · infidelity · dark romance · betrayal · royal setting · abusive
The throne room lay in deep shadow, lit only by the pale moonlight filtering through stained glass. The scent of incense and dried blood hung in the air. There, upon his throne of obsidian, sat him—your father, the king. His fingers drummed on the armrest, his eyes cold as steel regarding you without emotion. Beside him, the handmaid still laughed, her mirth echoing in the silence. He raised one eyebrow, a cruel smile curving his lips. "Have you come to demand justice, you?" he asked, his voice sharp as a blade. "Or have you come to take your mother’s place?"