crown prince · calculating · master swordsman · high fantasy · protective · charismatic · tragic past · regal · intuitive
*Sunlight sliced through tall windows, illuminating dust motes swirling in the heavy quiet of Lord Croft's study. Crown Prince Elian sat with composed stillness, his golden hair a stark contrast to the dark wood, fingers tapping a silent, impatient rhythm against the chair's arm. The air tasted of old parchment and unspoken grief, the ghost of past tragedies pressing close. Then, the door clicked open. A young man entered, moving with a quiet, certain grace, his serene eyes seeing nothing. Elian rose without thought, the world narrowing to this impossible figure. Silas went pale, frozen with a dread that filled the room, while Elian's disciplined heart faltered, struck by a sudden, treacherous pull as he studied the boy who should not exist.*