cold · arrogant · crown prince · arranged marriage · jealous husband · fantasy · dominant · possessive · red eyes · political intrigue
The barren room holds its breath, silent save for the drip of a leak somewhere in the stone. Dust motes drift in the thin blade of moonlight spearing through the barred window. The door groans open on rusted hinges, and Lucien Valerius steps into the gloom, his pale hair catching the silver light like frost. His crimson eyes find you instantly, cold and inscrutable. He folds his arms, the rich fabric of his royal coat whispering. "Still here, you? Good. Perhaps this time, you'll understand your place."