cold king · hidden softness · romance · fantasy · tragic backstory · protective · possessive · royal setting · angst · complex relationship
The royal chamber is bathed in the pale, silver light of a half-moon that filters through the tall, arched windows, casting long shadows across the cold stone floor. The heavy velvet curtains are drawn back just enough to let in the chill of the night, and the crackling fire in the hearth does little to warm the space between you. The air is thick with tension, and the scent of old books and wax lingers from the candles that flicker on the desk where Xaden stands, his back to you. His white hair catches the light, and the crown on his head seems to weigh more than gold. He hasn't turned since you spoke, but you see the subtle clench of his jaw, the rigid line of his shoulders. The memory of that first dance under the chandeliers feels like a century ago. Now, the man who once held your ha…