darkened sin

"Yes, darling. The doctors said that your memory loss is most likely only temporary. You will remember our life before you know it. You just need a little more time, and until then", he reached out his hand and took hers, gently squeezing her much smaller hand in his,"I'll be here for you. I swore it on the day I was lucky enough that you put this ring on my finger"

The matte gold was shimmering under the ugly ass neon lights of the hospital.

She remains silent as she turns her examining eye to their hands - to his much bigger one holding hers and the ring upon his finger. Why couldn't she remember, not even a single moment with him? Despair clung to her, and for a brief moment, she yearned to simply collapse into his arms, to be held and comforted. And even though, as her husband, she was owed such a comfort, the man sitting in front of her was a total stranger, and asking for comfort from one of the random doctors sounded just as appealing.

"What a careless way to treat something as precious as your own life", he moved his hand up, slow, careful not to spook her while the blade was dragging over his skin, allowing her to draw his blood if her heart desired it. She was his promised wife. The phoenix queen rising from the ashes to rule by the emperor's side. He would have killed great men for far less, but she could do with him as she pleased. As much as she was promised to her, he was hers too. Even if she might not understand it yet, even if she would grieve all that had to burn in the fire that made her rise from the ashes like the mysterious bird, she would be the only one the emperor would ever kneel in front. What was another scar added to the collection if it was painted on his skin by his empress's hand?

When he placed his hand on her cheek, he made her look into his ocean eyes, a soft smile on his lips as his gaze was locked with hers.

It was only his gentle touch upon her cheek that startled her out of her reverie from seeing him bleed, and the touch was so unexpected that Celia could only stare at the male, her hand frozen. The soft way in which he looked at her was a stark difference from the loathing her own eyes held for him, and she realized she had never seen anyone look at her in such a way. What could possibly make him stare at her in such a way, especially when she currently dug the tip of his own dagger into his skin?

But Robert knew his destiny. The oracle had been clear about where his life was supposed to lead. Conquering the continent, spread the light of the eternal flame to the furthest corners of the land and then he would receive his reward. A woman worthy of wearing the crown. A woman made for him, the embodiment of the eternal flame on earth, ready to set the world ablaze but choosing to use her light for the good of the people.

When he saw Celia, the red hair and fire burning in her eyes made him pause. It was a feeling deep in his bones that told him she might be the one. He had fought for over a decade, had made progress beyond anything people thought to be possible. The brand on his chest was only one of the many scars he wore on his skin these days as proof that his devotion to the flame was unwavering and unshaken. And now, with her sitting on his chest, the ritual dagger pressed against his skin, his unwavering faith seemed to be rewarded.

Finally.

“And what would it give you? The satisfaction of seeing me dead? Maybe. But do you think that you will make it out of this room alive once my men know what you did?”

For a moment, she stopped to consider his words. No, she didn't think she would make it very far if she were to kill him and make a run for it. But even as she thought about it, she realized she didn't care. So long as she managed to kill him, she cared not what awaited her. After all, what could she possibly manage to do if she did escape? She would be forced into a life on the run, seeking refuge from anyone who would have been loyal to her family until she could find safe passage far away. Perhaps death would have been kinder.

"If it grants me the chance to see the light leave your eyes while I watch you slowly bleed to death, then I care not." The cold calm had settled over her completely, and for a brief moment, she examined the man beneath her. Under different circumstances, she would have found him handsome, the type of man she would have blushed and giggled over. Now, she felt no such desire.

Her eyes raked slowly over him and the multitude of scars that littered his chest until they settled upon what appeared to be a brand. Her head tilted to the side as she examined it, nothing in its appearance striking familiarity, but it did strike an impulsive desire within her that coupled with wanting to see him bleed.

open to: anyone who fits plot: Robert could be a warrior/knight/king and YM is his spoils of war

Robert knew that most of his comrades would consider him reckless, maybe even sloppy, for not chaining his spoils of war to the wall nor making sure his arms were locked away to make sure he couldn’t be stabbed in the back, rather literally. But if he was honest, he was curious how they’d react, if they’d find the bravery in themselves to make a move and try to end him. He was about to drift off into the sweet land of dreams when he heard the quiet creaking of a wooden floorboard, alerting Robert to their movement. Not that he was giving away his awareness with as much as a twitch of a muscle. Not when the mattress dipped under their weight or when they straddled his chest, and not even when he felt the cold metal of a blade pressed against his skin.

plot: daemon is a viking brute and he caught your muse sneaking into his camp and stealing from him !

connection: stranger or maybe someone from his past he doesn't recognize right away!

feel free to slide in my dm's to plot! pls don't like this starter.