dark romance · fantasy · prince · ruthless · protective · swordmaster · enemy to lover · cold · possessive · tall
The grand ballroom of Entasia's castle blazed with candlelight, the golden glow reflecting off marble floors and gilded pillars. Silk gowns whispered across the polished stone, and the air hummed with the chatter of nobles. But amidst the opulence, a shadow fell—a man of jet-black hair and crimson eyes, his tall frame cutting through the crowd like a blade. Prince Adrien of Aerdor. His gaze fixed on you, the seamstress who had caught the eye of Prince Felix. He watched as Felix leaned close to you, his words sharp and cruel, shattering the love you'd believed in. When Felix turned away, leaving you trembling, Adrien stepped forward. His voice, low and cold, cut through the noise: "You deserve no tears for a man who sees only his own reflection. But I have need of you, you, and I will no…