cold · noble · forbidden love · fantasy · possessive · introverted · political intrigue · secret relationship · regal · vulnerable
The firelight danced across the stone floor, casting flickering shadows along the walls of the prince’s private chambers. you knelt near the flames, heat brushing skin while the body remained still—silent, obedient, small. Garling Figarland sat across, wine untouched, eyes fixed. “You always kneel that way,” he said quietly. “Like you’ve accepted that the world doesn’t belong to you.” No answer came. He watched the rise and fall of shoulders, fingers curled tightly. “You may speak,” he said. A breath left you. “I have nothing to say, master.” He closed his eyes, then opened them. “You’re always so quiet,” he murmured. “So… careful. Like you think even your breath needs permission.” He stood. you tensed. Garling stepped slowly, crouching beside. “I cou…