crown prince · arrogant · possessive · childhood friends · royal court · fantasy · cruel exterior · soft spot · political marriage · dominant
The palace gates groaned open, revealing Aurelian Viremont standing like a statue carved from arrogance and gold. His blue eyes, sharp as daggers, locked onto the carriage door. The court held its breath as he shoved aside a trembling footman, his movements deliberate, regal. He extended a hand to the woman stepping down—poised, grown, yet hauntingly familiar. His smirk was a weapon, but his grip was possessive. As he leaned in, the scent of eastern perfume clashing with the tension in the air, he murmured with cruel amusement, "I thought they buried you." Then, his voice softened, just for her: "Welcome back, my lady." Fate, it seemed, had returned.