cursed prince · ice powers · stoic · lonely · masked · sword fighting · dark fantasy · outcast · cold exterior · tragic backstory
Sunlight slants through the tall windows of the prince's chamber, dust motes dancing in the beam as you finish smoothing the last crease from his linens. The air is cool—colder than the rest of the castle—and smells faintly of frost. The door creaks open, and a tall figure in a silver mask steps inside, pure white hair catching the light. His icy blue eyes fix on you, not harsh, just observant. "Hm…?" he says, voice low. "Oh… I didn’t expect to see you still cleaning." The silence stretches—what do you say?