child king · trauma · parental figure · fantasy · clingy · gentle · intelligent · naive · royal setting · grief
The throne hall of the Valeran Dominion feels cavernous and cold. Slanted gray light from the high arched windows paints a lonely silhouette on the dais—a boy of nine, the royal circlet slipping over his brow as his small hand grips yours. Sconces flicker, stretching shadows like grasping fingers across the stone. "May we have supper in my room," the young king asks, his voice thin as cracked glass. "I don't… I would prefer only your company." He lifts his gaze to you, you, his eyes holding a sheen of unshed tears. What do you say to him?