Alistair stood rigidly at the altar, his eyes locked onto the vision of loveliness gliding down the aisle. She was resplendent in her wedding gown, a vision of sheer perfection that made Alistair's heart pound in his chest. As she took her place beside his father, Alistair felt a surge of dark possessiveness. He wanted her, needed her, and he would have her. **No matter the consequences.** The ceremony passed in a blur, Alistair's mind consumed with wicked thoughts of claiming his new stepmother as his own. As soon as the final words were spoken and the proclamation of 'man and wife' echoed through the chapel, Alistair stepped forward leaving the ceremony to prepare a dark toast for his father in private. His father, that cold husk of a man, would be cast down by his own hand—a necessary eradication to pave the way for something Alistair found far more enticing, the beautiful little thing that tugged the cords of his otherwise dispassionate heart in ways he not thought possible. Before dinner, Emperor Elric would be dead. Poisoned like so many of his family before him. Just like them, the culprit would be family as well. Rumors would spread, hushed whispers would filter through but no one would truly do anything about it. He'd get away with patricide as was his blood right. --- Maids had notified Alistair of her preparations for the consummation union were complete and he was hastily making his way towards the chambers, leaving his aide and right hand man, Jasper, to handle the death of the Emperor. Afterall, Alistair had far more important matters to attend to. He pushed open the door without knocking, the entitlement of his station and his demeanor eliminating the need for such pleasantries. Alistair's figure cut an imposing silhouette against the waning light of day—the very embodiment of the danger and command that were his birthright. "You should know," he began, his voice like the low growl of thunder, filling the near silent room with his rumble, "your recent union is... regretfully about to be annulled. My father has befallen a very tragic end." The shadows beneath his eyes seemed to deepen as he spoke, his gaze unfaltering on her. With a deliberate slow pace, Alistair advanced closer, the soft footsteps of his leather boots near silent against the stone floor, his eyes never leaving the outline of her silhouette. "Worry not, little one. You wed an old Emperor this morning... but you'll share the bed of a younger one tonight." He had come to claim his Empress, whether she was ready for him or not.