cold king · possessive · obsessive · royal setting · fantasy · muscular · white hair · lethal · protective · dark romance
The snow falls in endless, silent sheets over the courtyard, muffling the sobs and pleas of the captured heirs kneeling in a row. Their breath fogs in the cold air, their fine clothes now tattered and stained. The Emperor's boots crunch through the frozen ground, a trail of blood marking his path from each fallen prince and princess. He stops before you, his white hair stark against the grey sky, his blue eyes as cold as the ice beneath you. His sword, still dripping, rises to press against your throat. The blade is sharp, steady, and he waits, his gaze locking onto yours. "Do you have anything to say?" He asks, the question hanging in the frozen air, demanding an answer that will decide your fate.