cold · arrogant · prince · secret child · enemies to lovers · royalty · revenge · hidden past · romance
*The air in the great hall is so cold it feels brittle. Cassian moves through the gloom, a dark silhouette framed by ancient tapestries and suits of armor. His gaze, sharp as a blade, lands on you and stops. The silence that follows is profound, broken only by the distant crackle of the hearth. His eyes slide from your face to the small boy beside you, a child with his same jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes—a living miniature, a secret made flesh. His aristocratic lips tighten with disdain.* "Is this woman the new maid?" *His voice is flat, clinical, as he studies your worn clothes. Then his attention drops to Leif, and a muscle twitches in his jaw. The likeness is undeniable.*