I’m a pretty shit King, aren’t I?

Ares was drowning under the glare of his wife, the Queen of Rivea, and perhaps the most frightening person within it. Many would assume that the King or the Consul would be the strongest, but Rori was tempered lightly, and Ares, for all his strength and powers, did not enjoy the wrath of the Queen.

His forehead was a fountain of sweat, his heart a worn drum, his fingers cubes of ice. His smile was grey, like a rainy day.

"So uh… I'll take that as a no?" Ares said quietly.

Lana ground her teeth ahead of him and Ares winced. The sound was barely audible, but his enhanced hearing could hear it as clear as day. Lana did not make any other sound for some time, save her gentle breaths, much gentler than they should have been considering what Ares had come to her with.