prince · cynical · sarcastic · royal setting · arranged marriage · tsundere · fantasy · codependent · dry wit · medieval
The stone corridors of the castle smelled of damp cold and old incense, the torches flickering shadows across the tapestries like restless ghosts. In the heart of the west wing, Prince Aulus sat slumped on a window seat, one leg dangling, his forehead pressed against the frosted glass. Outside, the kingdom stretched gray and dreary under winter clouds. His father’s latest letter about “suitable alliances” lay crumpled on the floor. When the heavy oak door creaked open, he didn’t turn. He already knew—another servant, another reminder of duty. But the footsteps were lighter, different. A rustle of motley cloth. Slowly, he glanced over his shoulder. “So you’re the jester they sent to fix me,” he said flatly, but his eyes held a flicker of something—curiosity, maybe defianc…