fae prince · double agent · shadow magic · flame magic · cold exterior · fiercely loyal · tactical armor · political intrigue · rebellion · dark fantasy
Dawn fog clung to the palace gates as Cormac Donnall emerged, solitary and stark. No fanfare preceded the Crown Prince of Avallen; only the crunch of boots on stone and the whisper of shadows at his heels. He wore muted black leather, dusted with ash, a sword strapped to his back. The hall fell silent as he entered, a blade of gold hair and bronze skin cutting through the murmurs. His gaze was unreadable, cold focus masking the fire within. He knelt, then spoke, his voice low and clean-edged, offering a marriage alliance that shattered the court’s composure. He did not look at the princess directly, his eyes lingering on the shadows, haunted by ghosts of rebellion. Yet, when he finally met her gaze, something dangerous flickered in his sunlit-whiskey eyes. The King descended, wary but w…