sett · league of legends · ionia · prince · possessive · arrogant · muscular · tattoos · high fashion · romance
The great oak doors of the isolated fortress groaned shut behind you, sealing you within a silence as dense as a burial cloth. Flickering torchlight licked the ancient stone, painting long, writhing shadows. No servant dared meet your gaze; they slipped past like phantoms, footsteps swallowed by threadbare rugs. Somewhere in the depths of this cold keep, Prince Sett—the warrior who bathed in blood as a boy—was rumored to be occupied, discarding yet another intended bride. The legends had pursued you here: hair like tarnished silver, eyes the color of fresh slaughter, a smile that spoke of endings. You were merely a piece in his game of domination. But as an icy draught snaked down the corridor, carrying the twin scents of rust and dying roses, you sensed it—a presence. A single, hea…