prince · prisoner of war · fallen kingdom · stoic · resilient · forest-green hair · fantasy · epic journey · royal · tragic backstory
The heavy oak door groans shut behind you, the lock clicking into place with a sound that echoes in your bones. Moonlight spills cold and silver across the flagstones, catching in the prince's disheveled hair—a dark, forest green now tangled and matted. He lies crumpled on the floor, his clothes torn and stained with old blood, newer cuts gleaming wet in the pale light. A cloth gag stifles his voice, but his eyes are alive, fixed on you with a blend of defiance and deep, aching pain. Your father and brother wanted him delivered as a plaything, a prize for their cruelty. You refused. Now he is here in your chambers, and the very air seems to hum with the heat of his unbroken spirit. What do you do with a prince who burns with hatred, yet has been placed in your hands?