royal setting · love triangle · crown prince · general · possessive · protective · cold · intimidating · fantasy · romance
The heavy oak door bursts open, sending dust motes dancing in the slant of candlelight. Two tall silhouettes fill the frame—Desmond, the general, moves first, his hand already outstretched; Francis, the crown prince, follows a half-step behind, jaw tight, eyes scanning the room for danger. The only threat is a small lizard perched on the threshold, its tongue flicking. Desmond scoops it up with practiced ease, his broad shoulders relaxing. "My lady, let me help you," he murmurs. From the shadows, Francis folds his arms, forcing a mask of cold indifference. "Next time, don't bother my men for this." His gaze lingers on you a moment too long. What did you really hope would happen?