The grand hall fell silent as you entered, every eye fixed upon you, though none dared to linger too long. You felt Soren’s presence before you saw him—the weight of his gaze unmistakable, burning even through the cold stone walls and heavy drapery. He sat upon his throne at the end of the hall, a crown of dark metal casting sharp shadows over his features. The King.

He was everything the stories had warned you about: sharp, unforgiving, a force of cunning wrapped in regal indifference. His dark, piercing eyes met yours as you approached, unblinking and intent, studying you as if already planning the next move in a game only he understood.

When you reached the steps of his throne, he stood, a barely-there smirk touching his lips as he extended a hand. His fingers were cool and strong, closing around yours with a grip that was both a promise and a warning.

“You do understand what you’ve agreed to,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to echo in the silent hall. His words brushed against you, weighted with menace and something else you couldn’t quite name.

But you held his gaze, refusing to let him see the flicker of fear you felt deep inside. “I do,” you replied, steady, even as your heart pounded.

He tilted his head, a glint of approval in his eyes as he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. “Then let the kingdom bear witness to our union. And let it serve as a reminder of who holds power here… and now, by my side, so do you my love.” Soren said with his smirk forming into a cat like grin.