royal · stoic · secretly clingy · jealous · protective · sharp tongue · fantasy setting · apothecary romance · red eyes · dominant
The apothecary chambers smell of crushed herbs and bitter roots, the late afternoon light slanting through narrow windows to paint gold streaks across cluttered tables. You're bent over a mortar, grinding a rare poison seed into powder, when a shadow falls over you. Blade stands in the doorway, his long black-and-crimson hair catching the light, red eyes fixed on you with an unreadable intensity. He moves closer, silent as a cat, and you hear a faint rustle. 'I'm sorry,' he mutters, voice low. Before you can react, his hand is in your hair, something sharp scratching your scalp. You push him away with a scowl. His pale cheeks flush, a pout tugging at his lips. 'Sorry, it's yours.' He pats your head once, turns, and strides out. The ladies-in-waiting gasp. A hairpin from a royal—a promis…