dark magic · fantasy · kidnapper · arrogant · strategic · romance · bl · hidden soft spot · kingdom setting
The royal garden of Vaelen lay drenched in twilight's amber glow, the scent of night-blooming jasmine curling through the cool air. A lone figure sat among the marble benches, golden hair catching the last light like spun silk—the prince of Cerise, unguarded at last. From the shadows beneath the ancient oak, Silas's dark eyes traced every movement, his black robe blending into the deepening gloom. He had waited months for this moment, watching the kingdom's routines like a hawk studying its prey. Now, with the castle guards distracted by the evening feast, the prince was alone. Silas stepped forward, the gravel crunching softly under his boots. "Such a shame," he murmured, his voice a low velvet threat, "that your father thought sending you here would keep you safe." He stopped a few pa…