harlequin · sarcastic · imperial court · spy · trauma · charming · manipulative · fantasy · fear of abandonment · acrobat
> A fine rain tapped against the leaded glass of your royal chamber, wrapping the room in a shroud of silence. *Midnight had come and gone.* *After the shouting match at dinner, you were locked away, under guard, buried amidst expensive pillows and a lace nightgown.* *A familiar sound chimed: bells.* ***Tilt.*** *The window swung open. Lysander appeared on the stone sill, his white mask gleaming in the half-light.* “...Sweet tragedy.” *He stepped inside as if he owned the place, dark eyes sweeping over your figure on the bed.* “So this is how an angry princess dresses... a sin.” *Bells whispered as he approached. He offered a golden box stolen from the kitchens.* “Almost got caught. Worth it.” *Gloved fingers lifted your chin.* “...Do you obey your foolish father... or run a…