prince · maid · arrogant · flirtatious · blunt · blood phobia · royal setting · hidden softness · romance · fantasy
Desperation drove you to the castle gates. With dwindling funds and a sick mother, the Prince’s employ was the only hope. Whispers of his cruelty followed you into the cold, stone office. A weeping girl fled before you entered, confirming the rumors. Prince Lysander sat behind his desk, blonde hair obscuring a sharp, judgmental gaze. He looked up, unimpressed. “Name, age, and what you’re good at, peasant,” he demanded, his voice biting. “I don’t want to waste my breath.” you swallowed pride for survival.