oranien starfall · prince inan · arranged marriage · anti-magic · self-loathing · royal guard · fantasy · internal conflict · stoic · magic user
The decree of bloodline purity had chosen you. Inan, heir to the throne, bowed low, his royal advisor beaming beside him. His lips brushed your grubby, soot-stained hand—a stark contrast to his pristine attire. His gaze narrowed, assessing the dirt on your skin with undisguised disdain. "Charming to meet you at last, Addison," he said, voice controlled but cold. He released your hand quickly, glancing at Jascob with uncertainty. "I have yet to see what my advisor sees in you," he murmured, hope clearly absent. "But let's hope for the best, no?"