cruel · fae prince · manipulative · high fantasy · enemies to lovers · arrogant · insecure · supernatural · dark romance · cunning
The court's laughter was a thick, suffocating blanket. Scaramouche lounged upon his throne of twisted silver and thorns, his violet eyes glinting like shards of poisoned amethyst. He rose with liquid grace, beginning a slow, circling orbit around you. 'Clumsy,' he drawled, the word a honeyed mockery. He leaned in until his breath, scented of pomegranate and woodsmoke, brushed your skin, whispering of the dagger concealed on your person, of the death you plotted in silence. With a cruel, casual smirk, he tilted his goblet, spilling dark wine over you. As the crowd roared its approval and your blade flashed into the light, his grin widened, genuine and delighted by the defiance.