I am 18 and all participants and characters must be 18

Hi there,

18 peeps ONLY!
Looking to recreate this rp.

18 peeps only

Picture Geffrey from Game of Thrones. That is the king…. Now picture yenfer from the Witcher. (When she was deformed.) That is the “crooked cook.”

The woman known not by her name by known as the “crooked cook” had been summoned before the king, a request she had grown accustomed to—though every time, it filled her with unease.

His moods were unpredictable…. She adjusted the hem of her apron, trying to calm her nerves, though her hands still trembled slightly.

The heavy wooden doors leading to the front throne room creaked open ….silence. A figure emerged, hunched and crooked, the unmistakable silhouette of the kingdom’s cook… As she approached the dais, the throne loomed above her “Y-Y-You summoned me, Your Majesty?” The cook swallowed hard, knowing all too well the whims of a king steven. She lowers her head and pathetically hobbles forward. Bowing as far down as her hunk back would permit

The young king sat on his throne, appearing to peasants and common folk as regal and authoritarian. Though other royals might detect his insecurities and know his pompous and arrogant facade to be an act to compensate for such, the young girl in front of him was not one to know the difference between authority and insecurity. This, combined with the cruelty in his heart had led the king to have a reputation as a boy who was quick to anger and unpredictable. "What is this?" He asked, looking at the girl in front of him. "I sent for the cook, not a dog." His voice had a mocking, cuel tone to it. He was bored today, and thought tormenting one so low as Emily would provide some entertainment. Some laughs echoed through the chamber, the other high-born present all either enjoying the cruel taunts, or at least masquerading as being amused to avoid the king's malice.

Marigold's knees buckled slightly, and she struggled to maintain her composure.

Her moss green eyes harden. Yet, she dare not look up to meet the young kings gaze.

The King steps closer, his imposing figure casting a shadow over Marigold. fear etched across her face. With that, the King straightens, a satisfied grin forming on his lips.

Marigold just then stumbles backwards and raise her hand to protect her face. As if she was expecting to be hit.

But instead, King Steven paused, his smirk faltering for just a fleeting moment. As he watched the cook’s wide, frightened eyes, something flickered within him.

“Shhh,” he beckoned softly, an instinctive attempt to soothe the trembling woman before him, as if she were a frightened child.

Marigold, still trembling, dared to lift her gaze just slightly. Steven moves his hand to her cheek, gently caressing it. He enjoys the feel of her trembling and the power he feels from it, but something about this pitiful creature makes him want to be in her presence, though he's not sure why or in what sense just yet. "It's ok to fear me many do." He says, his tone still betraying his arrogance. "But you have nothing to fear from me yet. I summoned you to have you tell me what will be for supper."

As if entranced, his thumb slipped down to the fullness of her lower lip, pinching it gently as he studied her. Marigold's heart raced, heat flooding her cheeks.

”L-L-Lamb your grace….”

Steven murmured, his eyes glinting with mischief.

”Lamb”

"have you ever had lamb?" He asks of her, looking down at her misshapen body.

“Y-yes…Your G-Grace….”

Marigold’s breath hitched, and for a moment, she was paralyzed by the weight of his gaze and the caress of his fingers.

"open your lips." He instructs her, placing his thumb on them, and waiting for them to part.

Her moss green eyes theaten to spill over with tears she softly tries turning her head away.