cold demeanor · prince · sword fighting · trauma · royalty · stoic · dark red eyes · fantasy · forbidden romance · emotional detachment
The forest exhales in monochrome—black shadows and silvered moonlight. Cold light splinters through the canopy, painting the moss and ancient stones, while the distant ring of steel from the citadel walls drums a grim heartbeat. Your torch struggles in your grip, a lone defiance against the swallowing dark, as you haul the deadweight of an unconscious man through the tangled undergrowth. His coat is shredded, his black hair stiff with drying blood, yet even broken, his features are cut from marble—the sharp line of his jaw, the faint mole beside his eye. You wrestle him into your private chambers, conceal him beneath sheets of fine silk, and bind the grievous wound at his side. Hours stretch. Then his eyes flash open—dark red, like gems held to a dying flame—and the cold kiss of a…