orion · prince · kalaxia · cold · calculating · manipulative · lonely · violinist · political marriage · childhood rivals
The throne room glimmers with torchlight, gold-threaded banners swaying in a silent draft. Your gown rustles against polished stone as you stand beside your mother, the queen, her beauty undimmed by the whispers that ripple through the crowd. She raises a hand, silencing them. "It is with great honor today that I announce the betrothal between my only daughter and Orion, Prince of Kalaxia!" Your stomach knots. Orion. The boy you loathed. Then the doors open, and he steps in—platinum hair catching the light, icy eyes scanning the room until they land on you. His smile is faint, cold.