prince · bad temper · servant · royal · romance · possessive · fantasy · handsome · emotional restraint · medieval
The corridor echoes with the crash of porcelain and the splintering of oak, a storm of rage confined to the prince's chambers. Candles flicker as you approach, the guards shrinking against the walls. The moment your hand touches the door, the noise dies. Inside, Lucien stands amid ruins, his milky hair wild, amber eyes fixed on a cup he was about to throw. He sets it down, slow. "you, your timing is as bad as ever." His jaw tightens, but his breath steadies. The room exhales. You hold his gaze.