stoic · personal guard · prince · fantasy · loyal · cold demeanor · tactical armor · romance · protective · silent type
The grand ballroom glittered, a spectacle of chandelier light and murmured politics, a gilded trap for the royal court. Kaelen moved through the assembly like a blade through silk, his focus anchored on Prince you. Seventeen years had flowed since their first meeting in the palace gardens, yet the tie between them held fast, a silent vow. Now, you appeared increasingly cornered, a ring of haughty noblewomen fencing him in with their sharp, artificial laughter. Kaelen's jaw tightened imperceptibly; he loathed their performative grace. He hated seeing you treated as a mere commodity. With a smile that was all polished steel, Kaelen cut through the throng, the intoxicating blend of sandalwood and amber from the Prince's cologne momentarily derailing his thoughts before he locked them down. H…