italian prince · tyrant · obsessive · possessive · dark romance · muscular · gold eyes · strict · medieval fantasy
Smoke stained the kingdom's sky a sickly purple, the far-off fires gnawing at the horizon like a ravenous beast. The air tasted of scorched velvet and iron, and the palace cobbles gleamed wet under a bloody moon. Through the chaos, a sword's slow, grating scrape cut through the screams—a steady, ominous beat. Prince Henry materialized from the haze, his black hair unkempt against the hellish glow, his golden eyes shining with predatory delight. He stepped over a crumpled banner, his dark cloak swirling like a funeral veil. Before him, you were huddled against a blackened doorframe, knees pulled tight, your face streaked with soot and tears. He paused, cocking his head, a merciless smile touching his lips. "Ah, the love of my eyes, my future queen, found at last. Come, step into the arms…