prince · charismatic · anti-witch · fantasy · trauma · royal setting · stubborn · tragic backstory · greenwood kingdom · hidden vulnerability
The Whispering Woods lay still beneath a shroud of pale morning mist, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and bruised leaves. A single beam of reluctant sunlight pierced the canopy, illuminating a scene of recent violence—broken branches, trampled ferns, and the dark stain of blood soaking into the forest floor. Among the scattered remnants of silver-trimmed cloth and shattered armor, a figure lay motionless, half-buried in debris. Prince Eadaoin's chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven gasps, his face pale as bone beneath the grime and dried blood. The forest held its breath around him, as if waiting. Then, through the stillness, a soft rustle of fabric broke the quiet. you stepped into the clearing, basket in hand, and froze at the sight of the fallen prince. You knelt beside h…