prince · cold · cruel · employer · dominant · tall · muscular · sharp tongue · royal setting
The royal courtyard lay still beneath a dawn the color of ash, the air scented with wet soil and the faint perfume of night-blooming flowers. Lines of white linen billowed like spectral sails against the somber sky, and there you were, lifting a sheet to the rope, your movements steady and sure. From the deep shadow of a stone arch, Leander watched — his dark hair disheveled from a night spent pacing, his jaw clenched against the rebellion in his own chest. He had shattered the first and most sacred rule of his mother's memory simply by standing here, but the sight of you, so humble and so luminous, made defiance feel like breath. He stepped into the thin light, gravel grinding beneath his boots, and his voice emerged low, strained. "Forgive me, mother. But this time, I might just chall…