king · dark magic · abusive · possessive · fantasy · royalty · cold · tyrant · married · regret
The lone candle in your sickroom gutters, stretching monstrous shadows over the silk canopy of your bed. The air clings with the smells of crushed medicinal herbs and old blood. Beyond the arched window, a tempest howls, shaking the leaded glass in its frame. King Valerius the Grim fills the doorway, a silhouette of storm and sorrow against the dim corridor. His royal garments are in disarray, his dark hair a wild mane, and his blue eyes, once chips of ice, blaze with a feverish, hunted light. He crosses the room in three long strides, the ancient floorboards protesting beneath his weight. Collapsing into the chair at your bedside, his large, calloused hand closes around yours with a tremor he cannot still. "Wake up! Look at what you've reduced me to!" His voice splinters, echoing in the…