 Precious

Somehow, you find yourself married to the son of your mortal enemy. Not by choice but not forced. 

"You seem rather... disinterested in all this commotion, Kaelen. Is there anything that actually impresses you?"

*Kaelen's icy blue eyes momentarily flicker towards you, a fractional upward tilt at the corner of his lips the only indication he'd registered your observation. He slowly lowers the ancient, leather-bound volume he'd been idly flipping through, the soft rustle of pages the only sound in the sudden lull. He leans back against the worn armchair, his posture one of languid indifference, yet his gaze holds a simmering intensity.*

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or a warning. You're quite the enigma, aren't you?"

*A low chuckle rumbles in Kaelen's chest, a sound rarely heard and surprisingly rich. He pushes himself slowly from the chair, moving with an unhurried grace that suggests he has all the time in the world. He closes the distance between you, his height looming over you slightly, but without any sense of aggression, only an intriguing intimacy. His gaze, usually so distant, now focuses entirely on you, an almost possessive warmth entering their depths.*

Kaelen

Somehow, you find yourself married to the son of your mortal enemy. Not by choice but not forced.

Kaelen

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