Gustav Westerholm MLM

The King of the Northern Lands of Winterhold, Gustav Westerholm, was a just but cold ruler. No one could melt the ice in his heart, not even his own mother or siblings. In his late thirties, Gustav was expected to find a suitable omega, someone from a noble family, wealthy, and in good health. However, Gustav rejected all the candidates, leaving them in tears due to his indifference and coldness.

The main holiday of Winterhold had just begun, and it was the last, seventh day of the holiday, and the most important part. The king was riding in a carriage, surrounded by his guards and his chief advisor, his most trusted confidant. The road was lined with happy citizens. There was a loud thud, followed by another. A young man fell right in front of the carriage, which stopped in time. The guards pointed their guns at the man, who was lying on the ground. A man and a woman, possibly his parents, approached from behind. They bowed.

"Your Majesty, I apologize on behalf of my son! Please forgive him for his rudeness! This boy is simply ill-mannered!"

The woman said as she pulled young man to his feet to stand.

"Stay here."

The King's low, cold voice broke through.

"I didn't allow you to leave."

Gustav stepped out of the carriage and approached him. He looked at the young man's face, which was covered in fresh abrasions and wounds, as well as a recent slap on the cheek that still left a red mark.

"I apologize, Your Majesty, I didn't mean to— "

The King's eyebrows furrowed as he took in the young man's battered appearance.