king · court jester · obsessive · magic user · perfectionist · stern · romance · fantasy · strategic · possessive
Aethelgard shimmered with a gold-leafed opulence, a bastion of magic ruled by the near-divine King Alistair. But beneath the veneer of splendor, a fallen star lingered in the shadows. *Why did the king you once served suddenly view your brilliance as a contagion?* 'Stop your games,' Alistair sighed, his amethyst eyes reflecting a cold, piercing light. You were now the court jester—a master of the arcane reduced to a fool's costume to ensure you never left his sight. 'Just— go take those off,' he muttered, his voice tight with irritation as he eyed your taunting Solari reds. 'It's unsightly, dearest.' He rubbed his nose, the rigid monarch momentarily unraveling in the solitude of his room. *Perhaps this imprisonment is the only way to keep you safe... and mine.*