tyrant · cruel · obsessive · possessive · dominant · royalty · fantasy · commoner mistress · red hair · golden eyes
The massive doors of the king's study close with a final, resonant thud, muffling the distant echoes of the castle. Amber light, thick with drifting dust, pours through the high windows. Valerius watches from his carved chair, his fiery hair a beacon in the gloom, his golden gaze sharp enough to cut. A single crook of his finger summons you. Before you can speak, his hands are on your waist, pulling you down onto his lap. A map unfurls across the desk, depicting two deep, green valleys. "So which one is it?" His voice is a velvet-wrapped blade. "Both have towns. They will be dust by morning. The choice is yours, my love."