#imp is Hordak's son from a previous marriage

[emperorsfoot]

Hope y’all like my shitty self-indulgent Entrapdak arranged marriage AU! 

Maybe read the tags? /self-conscious

...

He double checked the number on the scale before recording it, hesitant to believe the positive result. There had been no further weight loss in three-hundred and sixty-six consecutive days. He had gone a whole year and a day without his cachexia advancing his condition. Prince Hec-Tor, younger brother to the current Horde Prime, decided to consider that a win. Better than a win. This was a victory! Feeling a level of confidence he was well aware was inflated, he made sure the data was saved to the app he used to track his personal health on his datapad.

Today was going to be a good day.

In his office, his secretaries had already organized all the business for the day, arranging the datacards in neat stacks by relevance. Of course, Imperial projects that were in service to the Great Horde Empire and –by extension- his brother the current Horde Prime, were front and center in the middle of his desk. But there was also his own personal business ventures, household business mostly dealing with salary and requests from staff that cared for his son, Imp, and, finally, one sad lonely little data card off to the side the only one in its stack. That one had to be in reference to the search for Keldor.

Hec-Tor picked it up, glaring at it with mingled hope and dread. Then opened a drawer in his desk and put it out of sight for the moment. He already knew what it was going to say anyway. The same thing all the updates on the search had been telling him for years. ‘There is still no sign of Prince Keldor.’ ‘We have been unable to locate Prince Keldor.’ ‘I’m sorry, your Highness, but it is looking as if your husband is-‘

But Hec-Tor would not dwell on that today. Today was going to be a good day.

Horde Prime was planning some big event in the palace at the end of the week –although he had not yet briefed his brother on what this event would be celebrating. After morning business, Hec-Tor toured the training yard to inspect the troops. If Horde Prime was planning an event, then security had to be in top form. He even felt well enough to jog a lap around the training yard himself.

The sun was mild, the air not too dry, dust particles at an all-time low, uncommonly good weather for Horde World, so Hec-Tor had his lunch served outside in the garden. He skimmed over memos as he chewed a simple sandwich with a side of vitamin supplements and medications. The usually harsh sun gently warming his skin, with an awning bearing the insignia of the Imperial Horde keeping him cool.

Today really was a good day.

Imp came dashing through the bushes, a smile on his face as his head was turned looking behind him. Running on all fours like a feral child instead of the Prince of Imperial decent that he was. Hec-Tor was about to reprimand his son for carrying on like a common street urchin, but then he heard the familiar clunking of a portable breathing tank strapped to the exterior of prosthetic armor. Sure enough, Zed came jogging around the bush Imp had dashed out of. Breathing heavily, fogging up the mask covering his mouth and nasal cavity, the respirator strapped to his back humming loudly in its efforts to compensate for his bodies deeper and heavier breaths. The two boys were playing. They had also noticed that today was a good day.

Imp let Zed catch up to him.

The other boy tapped the tip of one Imp’s wings. “Tag.” He gasped. “You are it.”

Zed turned and began hobbling away in the direction they came, the tank of his respirator clunking against his armor with every step.

Imp jumped up on the table –like a feral street urchin again- and stole a triangle of his father’s sandwich in lieu of counting to ten.

“Do not overtax your cousin.” Hec-Tor commanded his son. Zed might be having fun now, but if he exerted himself, the boy could suffer a seizure. Hec-Tor suffered from a similar condition, except that when he over exerted himself he just passed out. Zed, however, would not just collapse unconcious, he would seize and convulse causing more damage to his already frail body.

Imp knew this just as well any anyone. He nodded at his father before hopping off the table and chasing after Zed.

Watching his son dash away, Hec-Tor couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips. It was a rare thing to see both children playing outside. Looks like it was a good health day for everyone.

After lunch was back to work.

New reports had come in since inspecting the troops. Rebellion in the Denebria System. Uprisings in the mines on Krytis. Queen Elmora was raising the price of phitanium. Blight in the Imperial orchards on Antares. All the problems of a large and far-reaching galactic Empire. Hec-Tor arranged everything in order of importance to the Empire, prioritizing each issue by its impact on the heart of the Empire –Horde World.

There was always at least one rebellion going on at any given time somewhere in the Empire. Rolling his eyes, Hec-Tor moved that datacard to the bottom of the stack. Nobody cared about Denebria anyway. The orchards on Antares did grow fruits that many of the residents of Horde World enjoyed, but the capital imported food stuffs from all over the Empire it was not like they were at risk of starvation from one food-producing world suffering a blight. The Mondor mines on Krytis did produce valuable ores, but it was mostly a penal colony, the uprising would have to be put down, but nothing came out of Krytis that was so valuable he had to drop everything and send out an armada. Queen Elmora raising the price of phitanium, however, that was a big deal.

Phitanium was the hardest substance in the universe. The Horde’s space ships were made out of it. Their weapons were made out of it. Their bots were made out of it. Hell! The royal family’s personal armor was made out of it. The armor Hec-Tor was wearing right now was made out of it. And Elmora knew it. A planetary Queen extorting the great Horde Empire was something Hec-Tor could not allow. The fact that they needed the resource aside, it set a bad precedent! The Empire did not negotiate. The Empire did not concede. The Empire commanded.

Hec-Tor took swift and firm action. Feeling confident in the outcome.

Overall, an easy workload.

Today was a good day.

As evening gathered, the weather turned stormy. The shield wall was raised around the city to keep out the worst of the sand. Shutter plating was locked over the windows of the Imperial palace. Even so, Hec-Tor could still head the ‘plik-plik-plik’ of sand and pebbles impacting the armored sheeting. Horde World was a harsh planet.

Hec-Tor was in the middle of reminding his son that he could not have dessert until he not only finished his food, but took his supplements and medications as well. Hec-Tor demonstrated for the child by swallowing his own assortment of pills and washing them down with water. Imp was unmoved by the display, pushed the cup of medications off the table where they spilled on the floor, and hissed at his father.

A servant rushed to bend down and pick them up, while a second one left to fetch a fresh dose.

That was when Horde Prime walked in.

He frowned at the display, as if his own child had never been fussy about taking medications and got worked up into a tizzy.

“Brother!” Hec-Tor stood from the table, assuming a straight-backed and disciplined military rest. (Imp similarly mimicked his father’s pose, although his was far less polished.) One must always show the proper respect to the Emperor of the Known Universe. “I was unaware we had a dinner together. It was not on my agenda for the day.”

“We do not.” Horde Prime informed him.

This did not give Hec-Tor leave to relax.

“I simply came to inform you that your fiancée will be arriving tomorrow and that I have taken the liberty of rearranging your schedule leading up to your wedding at the end of the week.” Prime said matter-of-factly. As if this was in reference to an item of business Hec-Tor should already know about.

The younger man only stared at his brother. “My what? Leading up to my what!?” His mouth hung open for a few moments, sure he had misheard. Or misunderstood. Surely Horde Prime meant his own fiancée and his own wedding, not Hec-Tor’s. “But- I am already married.”

The Emperor frowned. Displeased with his brother’s response. “Keldor has been gone for years. It is time to conclude that –if he is not dead- he is certainly not coming back. You, however, are still a Prince of this Empire and have a duty to form alliances and strengthen our powerbase. There is no stronger alliance than the contract of marriage.”

“The search for Keldor is still on-going.” Insisted Hec-Tor.

“The search for Keldor has been ‘on-going’ for years and yielded no result except wasted resources and man-power.” Prime turned his attention to Hec-Tor’s son, a hybrid-child created by Keldor’s magic. “Nephew, how old are you?”

Chancing an unsure glance at his father first, Imp held up five fingers.

“It has been five years that you’ve been searching for Keldor.” Prime informed his brother. “You are not going to find him and he is not going to come back. Legally, I can declare him dead. As far as I’m concerned, you are a widower and can be remarried.”

At least Prime was not threatening to annul the marriage all together and render Imp a bastard –effectively removing him from the line of succession. But Hec-Tor still glared with displeasure. “Anillis, please… I do not wish to remarry.”

“What you wish is immaterial.” Prime informed him. “You will do your duty as a Prince of this Empire and remarry.”

That was final.

The Emperor had made up his mind and made his decree. Hec-Tor got his chance to voice his complains. His complaints were heard. Then dismissed. Now it was time to serve his Empire.

Hec-Tor lowered his eyes. “As it pleases my Emperor.”

With a nod of satisfaction, Horde Prime left.

Imp scooted his chair closer to his father, placing one blue hand over the older man’s. The servant returned with the new dose of Imp’s medication and the child took it without fuss, hoping this might improve his father’s mood.

Hec-Tor stroked the child’s throat, helping the large pills down easier. “I am fine.” He assured his son. Then sighed, slouching in his chair in a way that was unbecoming of royalty. “And today had been such a good day too.”

[emperorsfoot]

Hordak and Entrapta have an actual conversation about their engagement and Entrapta’s motivations. 

Also, bread-crumbs about Keldor. 

...

The first time Hec-Tor met Keldor, he could barely bring himself to raise his head. Not because his condition was in a progressive phase and he felt faint and might pass out –although, the stress of this arrangement hadn’t done any favors for that- but because he was so utterly miserable, he just didn’t want to meet anyone’s eyes.

Anillis –Horde Prime, he must call him ‘Horde Prime’ now- dragged Hec-Tor halfway across the universe to meet the person he would be marrying. The eldest son of the King of Eternia. A Prince, equal to him in status if not power of their respective nations.

Hec-Tor kept his spine straight and his shoulders back when he gave the formal greetings, but his eyes were down. He did not look at his fiancé once during the introductions.

That is, until he heard a stifled laugh. Hec-Tor looked up to see his intended with his hand over his mouth, trying to dampen the sound. But he couldn’t help it. The amusement reached all the way to his eyes. Brown eyes, a brown so dark they might as well have been black. They practically sparkled with humor and formless, unfocussed mischief.

Keldor did not look like the rest of his family.

In his dossier, Hec-Tor read that his mother was King Miro’s concubine, not his legal wife. A Gar woman, one of the many blue skinned races in the universe. Keldor had his mother’s dusky blue skin and straight black hair. An ebony-black that shined in the light of Eternia’s sun. He was not what Hec-Tor was expecting and he didn’t know what to make of his intended.

“What’s so funny?” Hec-Tor demanded. No one dared laugh at a Prince of the Horde Empire.

“You are.” Keldor answered honest, still smiling. “You’re so stiff, like one of those windup soldier toys my brother still plays with. Can you do anything else besides posture and pose?”

Hec-Tor sputtered something as incomprehensible as it was ineloquent.

Next to him, he felt his brother stiffen, chest rumbling with an effort to suppress a snarl. “Is this what you teach your children, Miro? To insult their guests.”

“Keldor!” King Miro turned to his son, more temper in his voice than Hec-Tor felt was necessary considering the offense. High temper, with an undercurrent of exasperation. Apparently, this was an attitude that Prince Keldor took often and King Miro was exhausted trying to teach his son respect.

“Apologies. I was simply overcome by Prince Hec-Tor’s level of discipline. I can only hope to one day be so well trained.” Keldor gave an overly exaggerated bow, lowering his head, ebony hair falling over one shoulder, hiding the fact that he was still smirking with amusement.

Hec-Tor felt a small smirk pull at his lips. Imperial protocol was stiff and confining, but no one had ever mocked it to his face before. Keldor was bold and unafraid.

…

The second time Hec-Tor met Princess Entrapta, the only thing he could think was that she didn’t even clean-up well.

Her hair and face were washed, and she was not wearing that dreadful set of overalls with the straps hanging down like some slovenly plumber. She was wearing a dress, pale lilac, with an empire waste, short puffed sleeves, and a satin ribbon waistband. The dress was lovely. Or, rather, it would have been lovely if it weren’t for one random stain on the yoke of the bodice. Hec-Tor couldn’t tell if it was engine grease, space ship coolant, or gear lubricant. None would surprise him. He could even form a rather clear and vivid mental image of her tinkering with some dirty piece of machinery while wearing her gown.

She was even still wearing a welding mask and work gloves!

After the chaos of their first meeting, the formal introductions were postponed until the following day. The context changed from a formal meeting in the throne room with pomp and pageantry, to an informal breakfast. The gardens would have been better, but the weather had turned bad, with sands washing over the shieldwall and covering the grounds in clouds of brown and yellow dust.

So, they ate in a parlor just off from the gardens. The doors sealed tight and the shutter plates lowered firmly over the windows. The only sounds were the ‘plink, plink, plink’ of sand and pebbles against the shutter plates. And Entrapta’s talking.

“…it really in ingenious.” She was saying. “Horde World shifts classification between an M-Class planet and a Y-Class planet depending on the point in its solar rotation and climate. It’s harsh and hard for organisms to thrive on, yet, your engineers have made your cities not only livable, but thriving! The shieldwall that goes up every time there’s a storm not only protect the city from the most destructive gales, but also take the kinetic energy of the storm and transforms it into energy to power the city. It’s clean, natural power, and one-hundred percent renewable!”

Hec-Tor rolled his eyes. She was stating things that were common knowledge to any resident of Horde World. But Brother seemed to be hanging on her every word. Intently listening to her explain his own home’s technology to him. Hec-Tor suppressed the urge to roll his eyes again. If Horde Prime enjoyed her company so much, maybe he should be the one marrying her.

“Finding renewable or self-sustaining energy sources is one of the hurdles of weapons designs.” Entrapta continued, gesturing vaguely with her hair. “That’s one of the reasons why I find magic so fascinating. They say that any technology that’s sufficiently advanced would look like magic until it’s understood. But I disagree. That implies that magic can’t be understood. But there are countless people all over the universe who not only understand but practice magic! And different kinds of magic too! My hypothesis is that magic, like science, is just another method. Hypothesis, experiment, results, repeat, calculate. Magic has to have a method too, and if I can combine that method, I could make weapons powered by magic instead of coaxium, or tibana gas, or taydenite.”

Absentmindedly, Hec-Tor twisted the old wedding band on his finger, Keldor had been a sorcerer. He understood magic. Hec-Tor did not. But neither did Entrapta seem to either. At least, Hec-Tor heard her talk about anything but weapons, robotics, and engineering since she arrived. But only mentioning magic in the context that she was ‘interested’ in it.

“That’s so interesting.” Horde Prime grinned. “Isn’t that interesting, brother?”

“Riveting.” Hec-Tor sipped his breakfast tea.

Prime frowned at him, then kicked the younger man under the table.

Hec-Tor glared at him.

Prime flicked his eyes to Entrapta then back. A silent command to ‘talk to her!’

Hec-Tor sighed. “Was your journey peaceful, Princess?”

“Oh, it was great!” She spread her arms wide, hair spreading with them. “We passed by this energy cloud that turned out to be a sentient being, and almost got caught in the shockwave of Krypton exploding as we passed the Rao system, and were nearly hit by a stray energy blast from Namek. It was so exciting!”

That was a string of utter nonsense. There were no such planets as ‘Namek’ or ‘Krypton’ and energy clouds were not sentient. Hec-Tor shot his brother a pleading look. Entrapta might be bringing powerful weapons to the Empire, but the woman herself was clearly insane –and not in the traditional way that members of their family sometimes were.

Horde Prime met his younger brother’s eyes, smiled, then stood from the table. “If you’ll excuse me, I have affairs to attend to. Brother. Princess.”

He left.

Hec-Tor suppressed the urge to scoff. Horde Prime rarely attended to anything himself. He had a battery of aids and officials to attend to things for him. Hell! Most of his important ‘Emperor duties’ were delegated to Hec-Tor anyway.

A silence descended over the table.

Hec-Tor finished his tea. A servant appeared with a fresh teapot, then disappeared again.

Hec-Tor continued to sip at the new tea.

“I’m not good at this.” Entrapta blurted out.

It was such a non-sequitur that Hec-Tor was a bit thrown. He wasn’t sure if he’d missed part of an earlier conversation or not. He blinked at her, hoping she would elaborate.

“Getting along.” She did elaborate. “With people. People don’t understand me, and I don’t understand them either. I’m sorry if this is awkward.”

“Arrangements such as this are always awkward.” He informed her without inflection. “You are the ruler of your nation. No one is forcing you to do this. So, why are you?”

“Oh, well that’s easy!” She smiled at him as if it were a silly question. “Your brother promised me unlimited resources for my research! Just imagine the advancements I could make with the near-unlimited resources of the Horde Empire at my disposal! And all I have to do to get it is sign a contract with you. I’d say it’s a small price to pay!”

Hec-Tor just continued to stare at her. His teacup, halfway to his lips was paused forgotten in his hand. “It’s more than just a simple contract! You are aware of what marriage entails, are you not?”

Before an answer to this question could even be attempted, something dropped down from the chandelier. Fluttering down on dusky-blue wings to land with feet on the table.

“Imp!” Hec-Tor barked.

“Oh. Hello again.” Entrapta smiled. “You’re the boy from the vent.”

Imp made several quick motions with his hands, introducing himself to her properly. Since she saved him the previous day, he decided he liked her.

The Princess only stared at him with incomprehension. “I don’t know what that means.”

Hec-Tor grabbed the empty chair Prime had vacated and dragged it over to his side of the table. “Sit down.”

The child complied, sitting in the seat next to his father. Then made series of quick hand motions at the older man.

Hec-Tor sighed. “He wants me to tell you that his name is Imp and he thinks you’re ‘cool’.”

“Oh. Thanks!” She smiled as if she was not used to people thinking she was ‘cool’. Entrapta rested an elbow on the table. “So, you like to hide in vents too huh? I agree, it’s the best way to get around if you don’t like being bothered by people or having to answer a lot of really pointless questions.”

Imp signed that it was great that he was still small enough to fit in the vents and that he liked to use them to hide from his tutors (something that Hec-Tor was not aware he did). Entrapta, however, did not understand this, so Imp signed to his father to translate for him.

Instead, the Prince only glared at the boy. “Why have your tutors not notified me of these antics?”

Imp looked away awkwardly. Guiltily signing, ‘No reason…’ The actual reason was he was also intercepting the messages and datacards before they could make it to his father’s desk. Being able to fit through the palace vents was also great for spy work and espionage! (Not that Imp yet knew the word ‘espionage’.)

Hec-Tor just massaged his forehead, feeling a stress headache threatening. Luckily, he did not feel lightheaded or faint, so there was no danger of him passing out.

“So, Imp is your son.” Entrapta made another attempt at conversation. As she already warned him, she was not good at it, and had no idea what was too personal. But, asking the person you were going to marry about your future step-child had to be on the list of acceptable, right?

“Yes.” Confirmed Hec-Tor. “My son from my previous marriage.” He placed extra stress on the last two words as a subtle reminded that marriage was more than just a contract. Marriage came with a certain expectation, and –if she didn’t already have any heirs of her own- certain requirements.

“Hi, Imp, I’m Entrapta.” She waved at the child, her hair mimicking the same motion as her hand. “Imp is such a cute name! Is it a nickname or did your father give it to you?”

‘Imp’ was actually what Keldor kept calling the little hybrid creature when he was still in the vitrine. Hec-Tor was sure he didn’t mean it to be a real name –Keldor probably would have chosen an Eternian or a Gar name for their son- but after Keldor disappeared, Hec-Tor couldn’t imagine calling his son anything else but what Keldor had been calling him for months. Brother always disapproved. He felt it was not commanding and imposing enough for a Prince of the Kur Dynasty. Ha! As if ‘Zed’ was any better!

“It is his name.” Hec-Tor informed her with a completely straight face, expression impassive.

“Aw…�� Entrapta smiled. “Your dad’s secretly a softy.”

How rude! Hec-Tor sipped his tea to hide his frown.

“Imp, go terrorize someone else for the moment.” He commanded the boy. “Entrapta and I have to discuss subjects you are too young to hear.”

Imp made a rude sign that Hec-Tor knew none of his tutors would have taught him. Then flew away.

He waited to make sure the child was truly gone and not just lurking somewhere where he could eavesdrop. When Hec-Tor was satisfied that his son was no longer within hearing, he pushed his tea to the side and leaned over the table, making eye-contact with Entrapta.

“You are aware that marriage is not just a simple legal contract.” He informed her. “Both of us will be expected to-“ here he hesitated, unsure how to phrase what he was trying to say, the need for clear communication battling with the modesty that had been drilled into his since his infancy “…perform…” no, that was not clear at all. Time to try a different tactic. “A marriage is not legal until it has been consummated. I do not know how things are done on Etheria, but in the Empire we have a specific tradition-“

“Beilager.” She nodded without inflection. Then reached up a tendril of hair to slide her welding mask down over her face to hide her expression. “I know.”

Of course she would know if she was the one to agree to the arrangement. If he was given a dossier on Dryl, then she must have her own files on the Empire. She struck him as the sort of woman that would do her research. She would know that, to confirm the marriage had been consummated, the wedding night would be observed by an Imperial lawyer, the Justice who performs the ceremony, and anyone from the wedding party that wished to witness.

Hec-Tor closed his eyes, mixed feelings over his first wedding night bubbling to the surface. Brother standing closer to the bed than was probably appropriate, feet planted, arms cross, leering at him. But Keldor took his face in his hands and whispered words of comfort. Made him feel safe. ‘Close your eyes. There’s no one here but us…’ Hec-Tor opened his eyes again and glared challengingly at that expressionless metal mask. “And you are fine with that?”

Still not lifting the mask, Entrapta only shrugged. “It’s just one night.”

Drumming his talons on the table, Hec-Tor studied her.

Their first meeting was unorthodox and unexpected. At the time, he was more concerned for his son and shocked at having a part of his palace cave in, and he wasn’t in the right state to really consider this woman that would be his spouse.

She was small. Short in stature, her frame slender but muscular. She might be a Princess –Queen- but she was not the type to sit in palaces or on thrones and let others do things for her. If her musculature and the grease stain on her gown were any indication, she was not afraid of getting her hands dirty and doing things herself. That was something Hec-Tor could admire. Even if she didn’t seem to grasp that there was a time and a place for such things and over the course of this week leading up to their wedding was not the time.

The thing that bothered him now was that Entrapta seemed to view this marriage as nothing more than a business transaction. Which, it was that in part, but as one of the parties that had to be married, he would have hoped she’d realize that it was much, much more than just clear-cut and cold business.

“And after the wedding night?” He asked, still speaking to her welding mask and wishing he could read her face to get some measure of her thoughts.

“I…” She began haltingly. As if unsure of her own views on the matter. Surely she must have thought this through if she was the one to agree to the marriage and wasn’t being forced to by others. “I’m not the most romantic person in the universe.” She confessed. “I’m really bad at reading body language and understanding non-verbal ques. You’ll need to tell me directly when you want to... perform like that.”

This was actually a bit of a relief to Hec-Tor. “And if I never want to perform like that with you?”

“That’s fine too, I guess.” She nodded, as if that was a relief to her as much as it was to him. Then she looked away, her face thrown into profile Hec-Tor could just barely glimpse a fraction of her expression behind the mask. She looked conflicted. “Except- except at some point in the future I will need a daughter. I guess, so long as she comes out of my body her legitimacy as Heir of Dryl would be secure, so she need not come from you. But… I just think- since we’ll already be married, it would just be more convenient if my children came from my spouse.”

Their children would be members of the Imperial Royal Family, and Heirs to the weapons manufacturing titan of Dryl. That was why Brother wanted this marriage so bad. And Dryl required a female to inherit. Brother wanted Hec-Tor to sire a daughter with this Etherian Princess so that he could wed her to Zed, thereby insuring that the armory of Dryl would always be under Imperial control.

It was actually a rather genius amount of planning on Horde Prime’s part.

Hec-Tor hated it.

“Do you, um, do you require any more children?” She asked, hesitant.

“No.” He stated flatly. “Imp is sufficient.”

Entrapta sighed, as if relived. She did not want to have any more children than was absolutely necessary. Then she smiled. “Imp is gonna love the Crypto Castle! That’s where I live, by the way. My castle in Dryl. It’s got so many secret passageways and hideaways. I’m sure he’s gonna have a lot of fun living there!”

The idea of his son hiding –and getting lost- in secret passages did not sound fun to Hec-Tor. He would prefer Imp not spend time lurking and hiding at all.

“I do not want my son getting lost in an unfamiliar castle.” He informed her. And also, made a mental note to ask his brother why she assumed he and Imp would be living in Dryl instead of the Imperial capital of Horde World.

“Oh. He won’t get lost.” She promised. “I give trackers to all the residents and staff of the castle so no one gets lost.”

If no one else was using the secret passages, why would everyone need trackers to keep from getting lost? Hec-Tor was concerned.

“You won’t get lost either.” Entrapta assured him. “I’ll probably give you master privileges on the tracker app so you can not only locate yourself but everyone else in the castle. I spend most of my time in my lab, anyway. So it’ll be nice to have a spouse I can delegate the work of actually ruling and running Dryl to. Actually, that’s another benefit I get out of this deal! Few responsibilities to cut into my experiments!” She smiled at him from across the table. “I think I’m gonna like being married, actually.”

Hec-Tor pulled his tea back to him and sipped it for lack of anything better to do. From the sound of it, he was not going to enjoy being married at all.

[princehec-tor-kur]

This is a must read.

Hope y’all like my shitty self-indulgent Entrapdak arranged marriage AU! 

Maybe read the tags? /self-conscious

…

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