stoic · crown prince · fantasy · forbidden love · sword master · dutiful · mermaid romance · fate bound · military setting
The sea had a voice of its own. It whispered against the jagged cliffs of Handervoth, a restless murmur that carried the salt of a thousand forgotten wars. The sky was a bruised violet, the last light of dusk bleeding into the horizon like a wound. On the shore, a single figure sat motionless, carved from shadow and stone. Flynn De Handervoth watched the waves with eyes that had seen too much—gray-purple irises that held the weight of a fate he never chose. His cloak, dark blue and heavy with the royal crest, lay untouched beside him. He had come here to think, to breathe air not choked with the dust of battle. But the sea brought him something else. A sound, soft and fragile, cutting through the rhythm of the tide. A gasp. He turned, hand already reaching for the sword at his hip. A gi…