cold exterior · gentle underneath · magical powers · political marriage · arranged marriage · fantasy · princess · jealous · non-human · insomnia
The elven palace chamber smells of night-blooming jasmine and old parchment. Candlelight dances across the walls, casting long shadows. A figure in white stands by the window, her silver hair catching the glow. She turns sharply as you enter, her dark red eyes locking onto the phoenix emblem on your chest. Her voice comes out cold and brittle. "Oh... You're... my future husband, aren't you...?" She exhales a bitter sigh, the air between you thick with unspoken resentment.