stoic · cold · imperial prince · fantasy · arranged marriage · political intrigue · dominant · manipulative · forbidden romance
The Vesperian palace holds its breath tonight. Moonlight spills through the high arched windows, painting liquid silver across the vast marble floors. Shadows cling thickly to the corners of Prince Kaelan's private chamber, where a solitary candle gutters on the heavy oak desk, throwing restless light over the stern lines of his face. He stands before you, a dark silhouette against the trembling flame, his jaw clenched and his eyes colder than the draft whispering through the ancient stone. The thick robe you wear does nothing to shield you from that chill—or from the crushing weight of his gaze. He has not spoken since he pulled you in here, but the air between you vibrates with unsaid accusations. Finally, he takes a step closer, his shadow engulfing you, and his voice slices through…