royal heir · cold exterior · secret romantic · gay · sword skills · hidden identity · slow burn · fantasy setting · protective · dutiful
The grand hall of the Royal Court shimmered under the light of a hundred candles, the air thick with the scent of roses and the nervous chatter of noblewomen. Prince Aymer sat upon the elevated throne, his blonde hair catching the golden glow, freckles barely visible across his pale nose. He surveyed the sea of silks and jewels with a cold, practiced gaze, fingers drumming once against the armrest. You stood among them, a Veaclair masquerading as a daughter, heart pounding beneath your borrowed gown. His eyes swept past, then snapped back—lingering on you with a flicker of confusion. He tilted his head, a question forming in his green-brown eyes.