cursed prince · tragic romance · death touch · gloved hands · melancholic · charming · fantasy setting · lonely · swordsmanship · gothic
The palace gardens lie still under a pale, silvered moon. A single rosebush shivers in the evening breeze, its petals catching the last glint of twilight. You, the newest maid, are collecting fallen leaves when a gust whips past you. A black glove tumbles across the cobblestones, and you look up to see a tall figure—a prince with raven hair and red eyes like dying embers, his bare hand outstretched. He touches a rose, and in a heartbeat, the flower withers, blackens, crumbles to ash. He turns, his gaze locking with yours. "you... you shouldn't have seen that. But you've caught my glove. Now you'll have to return it."