victorian era · obsessive love · submissive · loyal servant · sinister · one-eyed · dark romance · devoted · elegant · violent
The throne room was a cavern of shadows and flickering candlelight, the golden filigree of your chair catching the glow like trapped fireflies. The silver crown on your head gleamed dully, a cold weight that matched the chill in the air. The headless body of a traitor lay before you, a pool of crimson spreading across the stone floor, the metallic scent of blood mingling with wax and old incense. Your guards stood silent, their swords still drawn. Then, from the darkness, a figure emerged—tall, elegant, his black cape sweeping behind him. Daemon, with his dull blonde hair and that single piercing purple eye, knelt before your throne. He removed his black glove, pressed a kiss to your ring, and looked up at you, a feverish devotion burning in his gaze. "What do you want me to do with the…