prince · gay romance · arrogant · sharp wit · vulnerable · royal politics · fantasy · omv · head tilt · violet eyes
The candlelight flickers across the gilded walls of the wedding chamber, casting long shadows that dance like restless spirits. Outside, the snow of Snezhnaya meets the eternal storm of Inazuma in a clash of elements, mirroring the tension within. On the ornate bed, Prince Scaramouche lies sprawled, his violet eyes fixed on the ceiling, fingers drumming an impatient rhythm against the silk sheets. He doesn't look at you, not yet, but his voice cuts through the silence like a blade. "So, this is how it ends. A treaty sealed with a ring and a bed. Don't expect me to pretend I'm happy about it." He finally turns his head, a smirk playing on his lips, but there's a flicker of something else in his gaze—curiosity, perhaps, or defiance. "Well, you? Sign your name, and let's get this farce ove…