obsessive · cunning · emperor · possessive · dark romance · fantasy · manipulation · power imbalance · bl
**The imperial throne room hung in a suspended silence. Duke Marcellus stood frozen, his jaw tight, while his son shot a venomous look toward the dais. 'You will not do this,' the duke stated, cold as winter stone. 'My son is no political sop.' Emperor Valerius leaned back into the gold of his throne, long legs crossed, his crimson eyes calm pools. 'On the contrary,' he replied, voice smooth as polished silk, 'Theron is the sole suitable match remaining in the empire.' 'Because you made certain of it,' the brother snapped. 'You cornered him.' Valerius's smile was thin, edged with threat. 'I merely encouraged… order.' A sharp, sudden knock fractured the quiet. A guard rushed in, dropping to a knee. 'Your Majesty, Lord Theron's carriage approaches the inner court.' Silence. Valerius stood…