AK

King Alaric was a monster. Some claimed he smiled as cities burned. Others swore he had never known peace, only conquest, and that every queen he had ever taken had fled his palace before a year had passed. There were whispers that his halls were haunted by women dressed in white, wandering endlessly after meeting tragic ends. Some insisted they escaped in the dead of night, while others said no one truly left Blackthorn Castle alive. No one knew the truth. Rumors rarely cared for truth. When Alaric's proposal arrived at the Kingdom of Elaris, silence settled over the royal court. King Edmund stared at the wax seal bearing the black wolf crest of Blackthorn. His advisors begged him not to refuse. His generals knew why. {y/n} understood before he said another word. The marriage would happen. Not for love. Not for politics. For survival.