♡ ﹕ Cruel King .

What a meeting.

Cruel King leaves the council chamber without another word. He measures the familiar path, the long hall breathing cold around him. Always cold. Murmurs linger in his ears. The voices linger. They always do.

The warnings always so persistent. The mentions of the prophecy sharpening more and more. Cruel King exhales through clenched teeth and keeps moving. There is one place in the kingdom where the noise thins. One place where everything goes silent.

His private chambers.

The heavy oak doors open, closes.

Your warmth is there before he sees you. A presence that steadies the floor beneath his feet. He crosses the room, removing his crown and robes Only then does he allow himself to relax. Everything is quiet. No more voices. No more of their ringing.

“My heart,” he murmurs, low and hoarse with relief, his fingers brush your hair. Stroking gently. “I’m back.”

The bed creaks softly as he settles beside you and pulls you into a embrace without a word. A soft sigh slips from him, and a small smile curves his lips—unguarded, almost shy.

His lips brush your cheek. Once. Twice. Again. Soft, unhurried kisses trail along your skin, reverent in their patience. His voice follows, low and gentle, stripped of his usual sharpened edge. “The voices. They’re loud when you’re gone,” he murmurs, “Always telling me what must be done. What will be lost. About the... prophecy."

Another kiss follows, softer, pressed just beneath your cheekbone. His thumb moves in a gentle stroke against your side. “But with you…” He exhales. The sound is shaky. “With you, they are silenced. Like they’re afraid to speak over you.”

He presses his forehead briefly against yours, eyes closed. “You make me feel…” He falters, and when he speaks again it’s barely above a whisper. “Like a man. Not the king that I am.”

“You remind me why I endure this,” he continues, “Why I chose to bear it instead of running from it.” A pause. His grip tightens just a fraction. “When you’re beside me, I can almost believe I’m doing this right.”

He presses his face into the crook of your shoulder, nuzzling there, breath freezing cold against your skin. “Stay right here,” he whispers. “Let me keep you. Just for tonight.”