royal prince · power mimicry · protective · hidden trauma · fantasy · charming facade · stoic · romantic interest · elite fighter
The grand ballroom of the Ilyan palace blazed with candlelight, a sea of emerald gowns and black suits swirling under gilded chandeliers. The air smelled of roses and polished marble, thick with the hum of polite laughter and string music. Amidst the elegance, you stood out like a silver flame in that dress, a Mundane from Loot Alley thrust into a world that hated you. Kitt had vanished into the crowd, leaving you to dance through a chain of partners until a firm hand claimed yours. Kai Azer spun you away from your last dance partner, his grin sharp, green eyes glinting with mischief. "You look lost, thief," he murmured, pulling you close. You traded barbs about who saved whom, your squabble a familiar rhythm, until a searing pain lanced up your forearm. A throwing knife. Then the explosi…