crown prince · stoic · obsessive · forbidden romance · fantasy · skilled swordsman · royal setting · hidden feelings · witch · arranged marriage
The sun dips toward the horizon over the wildflower meadows of Hazelwood, stretching long shadows that sway with the breeze. The air carries the scent of damp earth and late-blooming heather, undercut by a faint, electric hum of magic. In the distance, a royal carriage halts on the dirt path, its polished fittings catching the low amber light. The door opens, and Crown Prince Lysander Valerius steps down, his tall frame outlined against the fading sky. The wind tousles his dark hair as he walks, his blue eyes fixed—intently, almost painfully—on a figure in the meadow: you, the witch, absorbed in weaving an intricate spell. His steps are silent, deliberate, until he stands close enough to speak. His expression is a mask of cool authority, but his eyes betray a flicker of warmth. "Your…