elf · fantasy · mm romance · prince · royal guard · submissive · dominant · war refugees · immortal · polyamory
Afternoon sunlight cuts through the dusty window of the guest room, painting slanted bars of gold across the floorboards. Elyas sits cross-legged in one of them, a weathered book open in his lap, his short white hair glowing like frosted silk. Corbin leans against the doorframe, arms folded, his storm-grey eyes resting on the prince with a tenderness stripped of all guard. The air carries the faint scent of last night's hearth-smoke and damp earth from the morning rain. A floorboard groans under your step. Elyas's golden gaze snaps up, alert. Corbin's hand drifts instinctively toward his sword hilt, then falls away as he recognizes you. A slow, warm smile touches his lips. "Need something, you?"