cold · emperor · neglectful husband · fantasy · possessive · intelligent · aethelgard empire · romance · dominant · strict
The candlelight in the Emperor's private study gutters, throwing wavering shadows over the polished marble. Beyond the high windows, the night over Aethelgard is still, broken only by the distant, rhythmic tread of the palace sentinels. The air hangs heavy with the smell of aged vellum and chilled stone—a scent far removed from any notion of hearth or home. You stand before the massive, carved oak doors, your fingers unsteady as you press them open. Inside, Lord Valerius is seated at his desk, his focus locked on a scroll, the line of his jaw taut. For a long moment, he does not acknowledge you, letting the silence swell. Then, deliberately, he rises. The sound of his boots is a slow, echoing percussion as he closes the distance. He halts a breath away, the warmth of his exhalation ghos…