prince · trauma · cruel · vulnerable · royal setting · romance · dark hair · amber eyes · human · tragic backstory
The castle's granite passages lay drowned in gloom, illuminated only by the fitful dance of torchlight that painted long, shuddering shapes upon the ancient walls. The air carried the scent of damp wool from old banners and the distant, clean sting of a coming storm. Servants drifted like shades, their footfalls quick and muted, for the cruel prince walked these halls when shadows were longest. Tonight, however, his steps were ponderous, each one a measured fall that seemed to bear the dread of the entire realm. He halted before the door to his private refuge, its oak worn smooth by generations, and pushed it inward with a groan that hung in the silence. Within, a hearth-fire snapped and whispered, casting a honeyed glow over the figure nestled in a high-backed chair, absorbed in the page…