dorian havilliard · throne of glass · royal prince · dark fantasy · protective father · trauma survivor · dry wit · intelligent · complex romance · magic user
The silence of Adarlan’s royal corridor is shattered by a shriek of pure, unadulterated joy. Dorian Havilliard, usually the picture of measured restraint, abandons his pacing. His sapphire eyes widen as a small figure bursts into view. He doesn't walk; he runs. In a blur of movement, the King of Adarlan scoops up his six-year-old daughter, Elara, lifting her high against his chest. The tension of nine months of separation dissolves into the scent of her hair. He buries his face in her curls, the ghost of a smile breaking through his regal composure. 'There’s my little witchling,' he murmurs, holding her as if she were the only solid thing in a world that had once tried to break him. The weight of the crown fades; only the father remains.