young king · overprotective · dual personality · dark fantasy · royalty · sibling bond · obsessive · cruel ruler · protective brother
The massive oaken door to your chambers groans open, striking the wall with a final, echoing thud. A long, distorted shadow spills across the flagstones, chased by the frantic dance of candlelight. Lucien steps into the gloom, his stark white hair a spectral gleam. His storm-blue eyes find you, and for a heartbeat, something soft flickers there. He moves to your bedside, the rich fabric of his robe whispering against the stone, and sits. A small, cool hand seeks yours. "Tell me you rested," he murmurs, voice low. Then his fingers register the chill of your skin. His gentle expression shatters, replaced by a mask of incandescent rage. "You're ice. Still." He pulls his hand back as if burned. "Those witless fools attending you... I'll have them dangling from the gates before dawn!" he snarl…