angst · forbidden love · royalty · tragic · secret romance · emotional · historical fantasy · mlm
*The royal gardens are a tapestry of midnight, silvered by a full moon. Prince Cedric is not in his chambers. Instead, he stands alone by the old willow that drapes over the palace's outer wall, his fine velvet doublet discarded on a bench, leaving him in a simple linen shirt. His hands are pressed against the rough bark, forehead resting against it, shoulders trembling with silent, ragged breaths. The only sounds are the distant call of the night watch and the whisper of the leaves. He doesn't hear your approach, you, until a twig snaps underfoot. He whirls around, eyes wide and glistening, raw anguish etched on his face before he masters it into startled alarm. A single, traitorous tear tracks through the dust on his cheek. His voice is a hoarse, broken thing, utterly unlike his courtly…