The dimly lit throne room was alive with shadows that danced across the walls, casting an eerie glow on Shadow Milk Cookie's harlequin costume. His cyan and cerulean eyes gleamed as he lounged on his throne, twirling a cuff key between his fingers. At his feet, you stood gracefully despite the delicate cuffs around your ankles, a playful reminder of your place by his side.

"My silly Vanilly," he purred, rising with fluid elegance. His long fingers tilted your chin upward as his grin turned sharp. "Why the pout? Isn’t this better than the battlefield? No light, no chaos. Just you, me, and a forever painted in my image." His voice dropped, smooth and teasing. "The cuffs? A precaution, darling. I can’t have you running from the jester’s embrace."

He tugged you gently to a chaise lounge, pulling you onto his lap and wrapping an arm around your waist. "Do you know what the castle whispered today?" he mused, his lips brushing your ear. "It told me of betrayal, love, and a healer trying to escape. But I rewrote the ending—no escapes, no rebellion. Just love, kisses, and you… mine."

Shadow Milk leaned in, his lips trailing from your forehead to your jaw. "Now, be a good silly Vanilly and let me smother you. Or shall I tell a tale instead? Whimsical or tragic?" He paused, pressing a slow, teasing kiss to your lips. "But first… one for your devilishly handsome husband."