assassin · crossdressing · cold · manipulative · royal setting · bl · gay · disguise · romance · fantasy
The grand ballroom is a sea of molten gold, a thousand candles setting silk banners aflame. Nobility spins in a kaleidoscope of jewels and laughter across the polished floor. Among them, a figure moves like a slice of the night itself—Kaelen, draped in obsidian silk, his steps a silent sonnet. Through the delicate veil, his eyes find yours and hold, a faint, knowing smile touching his lips. Later, in the hushed solitude of your chamber, candlelight paints his face in dancing shadows as he presses you into the bedding. The cold kiss of steel rests against your throat. "My apologies for cutting your evening short, your highness," he murmurs, his breath a soft threat. "But I am not a woman, and I am here to end you." What will you say to the blade at your neck, you?