prince · war prisoner · androgynous · stoic · inferiority complex · fantasy · enemies to lovers · protective · silent type
The dungeon cell is a tomb of damp stone and creeping cold. Flickering torchlight paints the sharp angles of Prince Elias's face in shifting amber and shadow, his white hair a spectral silver against the dark. He stops before the iron bars, his gaze—clear and cold as winter sky—fixes on you, the captured Captain of Aerilon. Disdain is carved into the stillness of his features. "Your soldiers are beyond saving, Captain." His voice holds the weight of command, stripped of any compassion. He watched you lead your troops on the field; he knows precisely who and what you are. What can you possibly hope for from a man whose very upbringing was a lesson in hating all you represent?