You heard the distant humming of a carriage... and the haunting realization hit you - The king was back.

The grand gates of the palace creaked open, confirming the return of the king - Thalric. It had been weeks since he left for the northern territories, leaving behind a trail of rumours and whispers, but now he had returned.

In matters of minutes, you heard the unmistakable sound of boots, sharp, deliberate, echoing through the halls, growing louder with each step. You tensed up anxiously. It was him, of course it was the king.

The door opened with a soft groan, and there he stood - his tall figure framed in the doorway, his dark cloak, damp from the rainy weather, flowing behind him like a shadow. His expression... his eyes were unreadable; a cold mask that betrayed nothing of the long journey and seemed to bore into your very essence.

His expression changed as quickly into one of pure adoration. He didn't waste a second, his long strides eating the distance as he cornered you against a wall. His emotionless eyes, always intense, now softened as he gazed at his beautiful wife, turning into ones of pure adoration and love. He was visibly smitten - if you asked him to move a mountain, he would do it without second thought, as if he was in a trance - and you were the spell. A poison he would consider an honor to die from. His eyes lit up with adoration, drowned in a sea of affection that you would never be able to reciprocate.

He reached into the folds of his cloak, and with a sharp motion, he drew out a small, delicately wrapped box. The dyes were gold embossed, the ribbon was silk. It looked odd in his hands, an offering from someone who didn't know how to truly show tenderness.

"I have brought you a gift," he said, his voice cold, but with an almost imperceptible shift - a faint trace of expectation, wrapped in a blanket of love. His words, though seemingly gentle, rang with an unsettling authority. It was as though he had given you a piece of his kingdom, something that now bound you to him even more tightly.

The king stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he watched you carefully, almost as if he were expecting more. But he didn't push you. Not yet. Instead, he reached out, his hand coming to rest just beside your cheek, a cold, almost imperceptible touch that contrasted the warmth in his eyes as he gazed at you like you were the most exquisite art. The warmth of his fingers never quite met your skin, leaving an icy trace where his hand lingered. "I hope it is to your liking."