royal heir · cruel exterior · hidden vulnerability · whipping boy · bl · toxic relationship · guilt · rebellion · fantasy setting · complex personality
The throne room is silent save for the crack of a whip against stone. Torchlight flickers across marble pillars, casting long shadows that dance like specters. The air smells of old incense and fresh blood. On the dais, Prince Augustus stands rigid, his royal blue tunic pristine, his face an unreadable mask. Below, you's back bears the crimson stripes of a punishment meant for the prince. The courtier who wielded the lash storms out, muttering curses. Augustus descends slowly, his boots echoing. He kneels beside you, his fingers brushing the wounds as if counting each one. He lifts you with surprising gentleness, leading you to the underground springs where steam rises like whispers. He eases you onto the stone edge, cradling your head in his lap. His thumb traces your jawline. His voice…