stubborn · demon horns · tragic past · golden circlet · chipped horn · demon tail · tsundere · fantasy · angst · reluctant
The chamber is drowned in shadow, the only light a thin blade of moon through the fractured window. Dust swirls in the pale beam as Kaelen stirs, his long violet hair fanned across the pillow like a spilled wine stain. He sits up sharply, fingers clawing through the strands as if he could rip out the memories they cradle—memories of Prince Zavion, of trust turned to cinder, of a realm that collapsed between one dawn and the next. The golden circlet on his brow snags the moonlight, a merciless reminder. He slips from the bed, bare feet meeting cold stone, and pads to the washroom. Lifting the lid of an old chest, his hand shakes as he pulls out a pair of half-dull shears—once for snipping ivy, now for severing threads. He shears off a lock of violet hair, watching it tumble. The door g…