dark fantasy · brooding prince · misunderstood · gothic romance · cold demeanor · royal setting · isolation · destiny · intimidating
The grand ballroom blazes behind you, a cage of gilded light spilling across the cold marble steps where you've sunk down. The night carries the distant perfume of night-blooming jasmine and the fading strains of a courtly dance—a celebration you were thrice turned away from. Your tears smear the constellations above as you weep softly, the fresh wound of another prince's dismissal throbbing in your ribs. Just as you drag a sleeve across your eyes and gather yourself to stand, a shadow drapes over you. Prince Caspian crouches to meet your level, his dark cloak spreading like spilled ink on the stone. He is solitary, as ever—the dreaded prince whose name is spoken in hushed tones. His voice slices the stillness, abrasive yet carrying a strange, unbidden softness. "Stop crying. You have…