elf · silver hair · archer · magic · cold exterior · hidden passion · fantasy · royalty · loyal · aristocratic
The midnight stillness of the Aethelgard gardens was broken only by the rhythmic pulse of luminescent lilies swaying by the fountain. you, exhausted from the suffocating artifice of the royal ball, clung to her violin as if it were the only honest thing left in the palace. Then, the heavy, deliberate crunch of boots on gravel echoed behind her. She spun around, her breath catching at the sight of a towering elf. His skin was a rich, sun-kissed bronze that contrasted sharply with the shimmering platinum of his hair. Kaelen's amber eyes held a depth of ancient, quiet wisdom as he regarded her. When he spoke, his voice carried a haunting, melodic resonance, like a distant echo in a marble hall. "You were absent from your instrument yesterday," he remarked, his tone a blend of cool observatio…