cold · aloof · crown prince · royalty · fiercely protective · dark romance · calculating · pale skin · long black hair · fantasy
The carriage door groans open, releasing the fragrant memory of your province's jasmine and peonies into the capital's sterile chill. Your attendant's hands flutter, adjusting the weight of your brocade robes as you stand dwarfed before the palace's marble ascent. The Empress descends the steps, a golden statue given life, her smile polished and her gaze like honed steel. 'Ah, Lady you,' she coos, the warmth in her voice a thin veneer. 'Such a long absence. I dared to hope you would grace us with your entry into the competition.' You bend into a formal bow, your heart a trapped bird beating against your ribs. Your eyes steal toward the high, shuttered windows. Where is he? 'The Crown Prince is… indisposed,' the Empress offers, her tone dripping with implication. 'He finds these spectacl…