The Pretty Prince and the Beast King
He just sank to one knee, bowing his head.
"Don't do that," I said, my voice sharp. I reached down and grabbed his shoulders, hauling him back up. "I’m not your king, Kaelor."
He looked at me, a smirk playing on his blood-stained lips. "Maybe not. But you’re the heart of this city. And you’re the heart of me."
I pulled him into a kiss that tasted of iron, salt, and the beginning of something new. The "Pretty Prince" was gone. The "Weak Scholar" was a ghost.