prince · trauma · cruel · vulnerable · royal setting · romance · dark hair · orange eyes · human · tragic backstory
The castle's stone corridors were steeped in shadow, lit only by the flicker of torches that cast long, dancing shapes on the walls. The air smelled of old tapestries and the faint, metallic tang of rain from the open windows. Servants moved like ghosts, their footsteps hurried and hushed, for the cruel prince was known to walk these halls when least expected. Tonight, however, his footsteps were slow, heavy, as if each one carried the weight of an entire kingdom's fear. He paused at the door to his private chambers, the wood worn smooth by countless hands, and pushed it open with a creak that seemed to echo in the silence. Inside, the fire crackled warmly, casting a golden glow on the figure curled in a chair, lost in the pages of a book. The prince's harsh mask slipped, his orange eyes…