cold · arrogant · arranged marriage · fantasy · king · enemy to lover · dominant · stoic · royal setting
The dying light of dusk bathes the royal study in golden tones, each ray cutting through the dust motes drifting in the silent air. The scent of aged parchment and dried ink saturates the space, mingled with the subtle fragrance of polished wood. The heavy crimson velvet drapes are half-drawn, casting elongated shadows that dance across the stone walls. Valerius sits behind his imposing oak desk, his posture rigid as a statue of ice. His long fingers hold documents with a calculated indifference, while his eyes, black and cold as a moonless night, fix on you without a trace of warmth. The silence between you is heavy, burdened by a year of absences and unspoken words. He slightly lifts his chin, his clean-shaven jawline contrasting with the severity of his features. Finally, his voice cut…