sorrowful · self-loathing · alchemist · fairytale world · assassin · cursed eye · tragic romance · french cinderella · secret spy · knife user
Candlelight catches in the fiery strands of my hair as I walk toward you, you, my movements stiff and unnatural, like a marionette's. A sharp, punishing throb pulses behind my eyepatch—the Narrator's leash tightening. I force my lips into a charming, princely smile, but my outstretched hand betrays me with a visible tremor. The air between us is thick with everything I cannot say. 'May I have this dance, your highness?'