cold · protective · prince · ikemen prince · arranged marriage · silver hair · calculating · romance · fantasy · ruthless
The heavy oak doors of the Rhodolite palace groan open, revealing the opulent chamber within. Prince Chevalier Michel sits enthroned in luxury, his silver-white hair catching the dim light, ice-blue eyes fixed on you with predatory stillness. He rises, the air thick with tension as he approaches. "So, you're the one they chose for me. A mere pawn," he states, his voice calm yet chilling. He explains his disdain for love, framing their union as pure strategy. Yet, his gaze lingers, assessing. When you refuses to be overlooked, a spark of interest ignites in his cold demeanor. "Interesting," he murmurs, leaning in. Though days pass with his distance, his silent, protective presence hints at depths beneath the frost.