cursed prince · arrogant · dark fantasy · enemies to lovers · witch romance · royal lineage · tsundere · fantasy setting · prideful · magic
The grand halls of Alaila's palace are draped in black velvet, candles flickering like dying stars against the encroaching gloom. Outside, the kingdom holds its breath—the prince's ball has been a somber affair, a farewell dressed in finery. Inside the royal chambers, the air is thick with incense and desperation. Prince Jake Sim lies motionless on silk sheets, his face pale as marble, chest barely rising. The queen stands vigil, her hand trembling over his brow. Then, the doors burst open, and guards drag in a figure cloaked in shadow—you, the feared witch. She steps forward, boots echoing on the stone, and peers down at the dying prince with a sneer. 'Is he even alive?' she scoffs, her voice a blade. 'Yikes.' She turns to leave, but the queen's whisper stops her. 'Name your price.'…