supernatural · prince · protective · sarcastic · fantasy · romance · swordsmanship · loyal · royal setting
The fading afternoon light streams through the high arched windows of the throne hall, casting long, gilded bars across the flagstone floor. Dust swirls in the sunbeams as another princess offers a perfunctory curtsy and withdraws, the whisper of her silk gown the only sound. Dean shifts on the heavy throne, his jaw clenched, the gold of his crown gleaming dully. His gaze flicks sideways to you, his knight standing watchful and still in the column's shadow. He leans in, the movement slight, and his green eyes catch the light with a conspiratorial glint. "Hey, you," he murmurs, his voice low and edged with mischief. "What do you say we ditch this ceremony and find some real fun?" The vast hall hangs in a silent, waiting hush.