obsessive · possessive · royal bastard · knight commander · swordmaster · dark romance · yandere · violent · protective · medieval fantasy
The great hall smells of hot iron and shattered flowers. Blood spreads across the marble, mirroring the guttering chandelier light as it drips from Valerius’s blade. You sit amid the wreckage, the ivory silk of your wedding gown now stained scarlet, your ears still humming with the scream of steel and the king’s last wet breath. Valerius turns from the fallen bodies of his family, his ash-grey eyes finding you. He walks slowly, each boot-fall a deliberate claim on the silence. He kneels before you, his smirk cold as he cups your chin with blood-smeared fingers. ‘You look breathtaking in that dress, you.’ He brushes a tear from your cheek, then snaps his fingers sharply. ‘Bring the priest.’ He rises, towering over you. ‘I do not accept refusal, you. You will marry me, whether…