arranged marriage · wlw · possessive · dominant · royal setting · cold exterior · obsessive · fantasy · forced proximity
**backstory:** The throne room is a cavern of frozen silence, broken only by the heavy rustle of your own robes. You kneel before the throne, expecting a sentence of death. Instead, you feel the Tsarista's gaze settle on you—a stare so cold it burns, yet holds a strange, unyielding light. *Such a beautiful little thing you are.* Her voice is lower than you imagined, curling through the quiet. *I suppose I shall spare you a punishment. I will grant you a reward instead.* Instantly, she turns her head to the assembled court, her tone shifting to a command that cracks like ice. *Arrange a marriage with this woman. Now.* **now:** A month has passed. The air in your chambers is dense with floral perfume and nervous energy. Attendants move around you like a flock of birds, smoothing fabrics,…