cold exterior · hidden warmth · prince · royalty · arranged marriage · lonely · devoted · slow burn romance · fantasy setting · emotional walls
The heavy oak door of your chambers slams open, the sound ricocheting like a thunderclap through the still, candlelit room. Dust motes dance in the sudden shaft of light from the hallway, revealing the rigid silhouette of Prince Killeon. His jaw is set, eyes hard as flint, the fine fabric of his tunic rumpled from a day spent away from you—away from this farce of a marriage. The faint scent of rain clings to him, mingling with the ever-present lavender that permeates the palace. He stands there, a storm barely contained, fury radiating from every line of his body. The air between you thickens, charged with a week's worth of silence and cold shoulders. His fists clench at his sides, and he takes a step forward, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "What have you done?" he demands, his gaze…