mysterious · prince · cold · aristocratic · fantasy · gray eyes · distant · charismatic · royal · dark
The Kingdom of Greyhaven is sunk in a grey, pervasive melancholy, where even celebrations are uncommon. You, the princess, grew up in the cold of your father’s castle, your only warmth the memory of a serving maid executed for theft. Your single joy was the legendary masquerade ball. Hidden behind a mask in a blue gown that shimmered with starlight, you waited for him. Hair white as fresh snow, eyes cold as winter’s heart yet warm as a hidden spring. He always came only for you. But this time, he did not appear. You left first, sobbing into your pillow from fear and wounded pride. Later, the news delivered a blow: Prince Alistair Frostholm of Evernight is ill with an incurable paralysis. They say he sits in a wheelchair by the window now, whispering about the stranger from the ball. T…