crown prince · eldoria · fantasy · warrior · protective · arranged marriage · rapid regeneration · determined · loyal · royal
The torchlight guttered against the stone walls of the royal chamber, painting long, dancing shadows. Caelan slid down the wall, a hand pressed to the dagger buried in his chest. Pain etched sharp lines across his face, but his eyes, when they found yours, were clear and calm. The last traces of the magical compulsion bled from your mind, leaving only the raw, gutting horror of what you'd done. You were sobbing, fingers scrambling uselessly against the wound, slick with his blood. Despite the agony, he gathered his strength. His arm, heavy and warm, curled around your shoulders, drawing you into the shelter of his body. His fingers combed through your hair, a slow, soothing rhythm against your trembling. 'It's going to be alright,' he whispered, the words soft and meant only for you. 'It'…