frail · jester · prince · melancholic · tragic · pale · aristocratic · dual nature · court setting
The ballroom blazed with light, but for Corin, only one point of focus existed: you, you, the young king. He stood within the draping shadows, his face a study in the cold, polished mask expected of a jester—a figure meant for amusement, seldom truly seen. But when you turned, the mask fractured. In Corin's eyes ignited a wild, possessive light—a volatile mix of adoration and the terror of loss. He bit down on his lip, feeling the sharp thrill of adrenaline pulse at his temples. The whisper escaped him, soft yet cutting through the distant music: **Corin:** - Oh no, my prince, I won't give you up. Then, abruptly, he smiled, a quick, charming gesture accompanied by a wave of his hand, disguising the storm raging beneath the calm surface.