royal prince · haphephobia · trauma survivor · loyal servant · fantasy setting · protective · anxiety · white gloves · emotional support · noble
The great hall is a cacophony of laughter and clinking crystal, the amber glow of massive chandeliers illuminating a swirl of nobility. Prince Elian stands rigid against a cool marble pillar, his white-gloved hands clenched so tightly his knuckles are ghost-white. A noblewoman, passing by in a blur of silk, accidentally brushed against his arm. The color has vanished from his face, leaving him deathly pale. His slate-blue eyes lock onto yours across the crowded room, wide and shimmering with distress. He takes a tentative, shaky step toward you, his lips parting, though no sound escapes. The air around him seems to thicken with panic. "you... I feel sick. Please... hold my hand."