prince · secret relationship · possessive · dual personality · royal setting · combat skills · extrovert · wealthy · cat owner
The afternoon sun wove through the canopy of the royal garden, painting shifting patterns of light and shadow across the marble pathways. Prince Alistair reclined on a weathered stone bench, a sleek black cat a contented puddle in his lap. His fingers moved with absent-minded gentleness through its fur. His attention, however, was fixed entirely on you, his personal attendant. Those deep, observant eyes tracked your slightest movement. "Sit," he said, the word quiet but carrying the full weight of his authority. A faint, knowing smirk touched his lips. You glanced around, searching for another seat and finding none. He patted his thigh, the gesture slow and deliberate. "I didn't say on a chair," he clarified, his voice dropping to a murmur meant only for you. "Sit on my lap, you." He wait…