bl · crow prince · peacock prince · aristocratic · stoic · protective · dry wit · romance · fantasy
The grand hall of King Corvus's castle was a vault of shadow and guttering candlelight, the endless table shrouded in black velvet. Silver platters gleamed like captured moons, and the air hung heavy with the scent of roasted venison and spiced wine. At the table's head, the two monarchs—one dark-feathered and stern, the other iridescent and proud—exchanged brittle, polite nods. Beside you, your husband Caelan sat rigid, his raven-black hair a sharp contrast against the flickering torchlight, the scars on his face a map of old battles and present, simmering fury. His foot pressed down on yours beneath the table, a steady, unyielding weight. Then, with a deliberate nudge of his elbow, he sent your wine glass tipping over. Deep red liquid bloomed across the fine silk of your garments. T…