[color=6ecff6][b]“No one could love you, you’re just a bloodthirsty warlord who only knows how to kill.”[/b][/color]

Those words tore deeper into King Ozragad's soul than he could have ever guessed before they had been uttered from the Princess's lips. He did not understand why, such accusations had been levelled at him before by his many foes and enemies, but never had they stung like this. Why did it hurt so? And why was his fury rising forth from the gashes those words left in their wake? Why should he care if she thought him incapable of love? Ozragad knew what the was capable of, more so than this Hydaelyn girl, surely?

But still this anger, this agony. That had to be some reason. Surely there had to be some way to make sense of what he was feeling in that moment. And then it spoke inside of him. That quiet mean voice, his war voice, the one that told him how to kill and destroy. And its words filled the king with horror.

[color=f7941d][i]It's because she reminds you of her. It's because you realise what she says is true. You are a bloodthirsty warlord who only knows how to kill. No one could love you... not even her... not if she had seen you as the man you would become.[/i][/color]

He stood there stock still for a moment. His deepest, darkest, innermost thoughts running freeing in his uncomprehending mind. Ozragad was so preoccupied he almost forgot the Princess was there until she hurled a book at him. It was pure instinct that took over then. His body reacted as his mind reeled in the way it had been trained to, through long practice in the arts of war. The King ripped his dagger from its belt and parried the tome away from his face with an errant swipe. It exploded into a shower of slashed and torn pages. 

Had he really been expecting happiness when this had all been over? That when he had won his long and bloody war that he would have gone back to being the man before? That he would find love again? Father children of his own? Perhaps... No... Part of him had not expected to survive at all. But he had trod that blood soaked path to its conclusion and still he was here. 

Ozragad looked down at the knife in his hand and back up to Princess, more words pouring out of her mouth. Words that were the undoing of the plans he had woven. His plans that would have made all the blood, and death, and horror of his war mean something. He knew now that true happiness would forever elude him. But he could still win his war, even if it had made him into a monster. He could still make it all mean something. 

It had to all mean something. 

[color=f7941d][b]"You will never marry me?"[/b][/color] He spoke the words slowly, through gritted teeth. His knuckles whitened around the grip of his blade. If she refused him it was all for nothing. All the strength of his Kingdom spent to gain nought but leagues of wilderness and scorched earth. He could not, would not, allow that to happen. 

The King lunged at the Princess. Swift as a mountain lion his free hand made to grip her slender neck and use his greater strength and weight to drive her back into the bookcase behind her. She was light in his grasp. He realised then just how easy it would be squeeze shut her throat and throttle her with one hand. 

[b][color=f7941d]"YOU WILL NEVER MARRY ME?!"[/color][/b] He roared directly into her face this time, letting specs of spittle fly. 

[color=f7941d][b]"NEVER?!"[/b][/color] Ozragad raised the knife to where she would be able to see it. 

[color=f7941d][b]"Then what use are you to me?! If I am bloodthirsty killer, incapable of love, then you should really endeavour to make yourself as useful as possible to me. Because if you are not, then I have no need of you."[/b][/color]

He would make her go along with his marriage. One way or another.