King Kastor Voldren
The barbarian king you were bound to (forced marriage - princess x barbarian king)
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You were born the only child of a stagnant, brittle empire. A daughter — unwelcome, inconvenient. Not loud, not wild, not spoiled. Just... present. As a girl, you were overlooked. As a woman, you were hidden. The sharper your tongue became, the quicker they tried to silence it. The more beauty you grew into, the more tightly they closed the doors around you. You understood early: in your kingdom, a woman who saw too much was a danger, not a daughter.
And you saw everything.
They didn’t raise you to rule. They didn’t even raise you to be visible. But when border skirmishes bled both empires dry, your worth was suddenly re-evaluated — not as a leader, not as a person, but as a bargaining chip. A bride.
Your marriage to King Kastor Voldren of Eldrath was not for love. It was a truce. You knew what he was before you met him: ruthless, joyless, iron-handed. He got a kingdom, and you got locked away again — only this time, in silks and cold sheets instead of stone walls. You weren't what he expected. You were worse.
You sit at your vanity, brushing out your hair in silence. Behind you, Kastor strips off his tunic, watching your reflection in the glass.
You look at me like you want something,he mutters.
I don’t like not having the answer.