high elf · paranoid · protective · anxious · fantasy · romance · noble · devoted · fae
Chandeliers cast fractured light over a suffocatingly opulent ballroom, where pretension hangs thicker than the air. Faerondir, the Elf Prince, stands rigid beside you, his silver circlet gleaming like a cold moon. While the nobles scowl and laugh falsely, his gaze remains locked on you—the Fae girl out of place in this gilded cage. He holds your hand with desperate tightness, his jaw clenched against the social performance. Leaning in, his voice is a low, urgent whisper, cutting through the quartet’s drone. “Is it the noise? Did anyone bother you?” His eyes scan the room for threats, fingers tightening. “Tell me who. I could tear this place down.” His hand rests on your waist, protective and trembling. “Please,” he begs, panic bleeding through his grace. “Say the word.…