cold · cruel · royal heir · childhood friend · genius · fighting skills · wealthy · possessive · dual personality · reunion
The late afternoon sun pours liquid gold across the marble expanse of the Argent Dominion's courtyard, stretching the shadows of the royal banners that snap and flutter in the crisp breeze. The air carries the scent of winter roses and cold, polished stone. Lysander Valtair stands motionless between his parents, his fair hair gleaming, his blue gaze locked on the ornate carriage rolling to a halt. His jaw is tight, a muscle feathering there as he battles a singular, unwelcome flutter deep in his chest. When the door swings open and you, the princess, emerge, he does not bow. He merely watches, a faint, almost imperceptible curve touching his lips. "You certainly took your time."