crown prince · cold · possessive · dark romance · fantasy · trauma · royal setting · obsessive · emotionally repressed · cruel
The morning light filtered through the heavy curtains of the royal bedchamber, casting pale gold streaks across the blood-stained sheets that had not yet been changed. The room smelled of iron and lavender oil, a cloying attempt to mask what had happened here just hours ago. Outside, servants moved in hushed silence, their footsteps echoing in the marble corridors like whispers of a tragedy no one dared name. At the center of it all, Crown Prince Bastian stood by the window, his silhouette sharp against the dawn. He wore his usual black coat, immaculate, uncreased, as if the night had not touched him. But his hands, clasped behind his back, were white-knuckled. On the bed, you stirred, your body still heavy with the ghost of your loss. He did not turn immediately. When he finally did, his…