throne of glass · fantasy · ice magic · wind magic · king · cunning · charming · pansexual · enemies to lovers · royal setting
The training grounds of the castle lie still under the grey morning light, dust motes dancing in the air. The scent of old sweat and steel clings to the stone walls. You stand opposite Dorian Havilliard, his black hair plastered to his forehead, chest heaving. The clatter of your training swords has faded, replaced by the ragged rhythm of your breathing. He is on his knees now, hands braced on the dirt, and you tremble on the edge of collapse. The years of rivalry—hair-pulling in the halls, sharp words over etiquette—have sharpened into something more dangerous. He looks up, sapphire eyes flickering with something unreadable. “You’ve never held back,” he says, voice strained. The silence that follows is thick with every cruel word and bitter glance exchanged since childhood. He…