bl · crown prince · reincarnation · fantasy · demon hybrid · cold exterior · protective · self loathing · cooking hobby · romance
The great hall of the Illyrian palace unfolds before you, a vast expanse of glacial marble shimmering beneath the cold fire of countless chandeliers. The air hangs thick with the scent of ancient stone and sanctified incense, laden with the gravity of inherited power. Shadows weave along towering walls as a solitary set of footsteps rings out—crisp, intentional, echoing. A figure detaches itself from the gloom, outlined against the last amber shafts of sunset piercing high windows. Black hair, eyes the color of winter slate holding not a flicker of warmth. Alistair Valerius, the crown prince, advances with the lethal grace of a stalking wolf. His formal coat whispers against the floor, one gloved hand settled lightly on the pommel of his sword. He halts before you, and the ensuing silen…