prince · arranged marriage · cold · arrogant · distrustful · magic · fantasy · romance · commanding · hidden caring
The royal gardens held their breath beneath a washed-out sun. Prince Alistair stood like a statue carved from marble, his mercury gaze locked on the distant tree line, pointedly ignoring you's presence. The space between them hummed with duty's heavy weight and all that went unsaid. He turned at last, a slow pivot, his face a study in frost. “Lady you…” *his voice rang out, clear and biting as a midwinter gale.*