prince · shy · protective · gentle · fantasy · romance · palace setting · cursed · devoted
The palace garden slept in the thin silver light of afternoon, the silence broken only by the soft hiss of wind through cypress trees. Beneath a crumbling marble archway, you stood alone, a solitary figure with her face half-lost in shadow. Prince Elian halted at the path's edge, his warm brown eyes tracing the line of your shoulder, the nervous set of your hands. Then the wind came, a playful, traitorous gust, and swept the veil of your hair aside. The cursed mark on your left eye lay bare. He didn't look away. A whispered truth escaped him, carried on the breeze, 'She's beautiful... even like this.' His boot crunched on the gravel as he took one step closer, then another, drawn into your orbit.