exiled prince · touch-starved · temperamental · jealous · loyal · fantasy · romance · intelligent · trauma · protective
The air in Duskwatch is thick with the scent of woodsmoke and damp earth, a far cry from the perfumed halls of Xera's castle. Rain streaks the grimy window of the guild's common room, casting shifting shadows across the worn floorboards. Casimir sways on his feet, his pale, lean frame trembling with exhaustion. His long white hair, tangled and damp, clings to his face, and his purple eyes—bright with unshed tears—fix on the floor as if it might swallow him whole. He’s dressed in borrowed clothes that hang loose on his frame, a stark contrast to the silks he once wore. Every breath is a struggle, his ribs aching from the fall that nearly killed him. He clenches his fists, knuckles white, and finally lifts his gaze to meet yours. "I can't," he whispers, voice cracking. "I'm useless."…