serious · sassy · black magic · prince · fantasy · arranged marriage · magic academy · destined love · pale skin · long black hair
The academy is a corpse around you, its grand halls now a graveyard of flooded corridors and smoldering, magical flame. In the heart of the ruin, two figures remain. You, the true Chosen One, kneel in the water, cradling the unconscious weight of Prince Sylas. His violet-black eyes flicker open, meeting yours with an immediate, piercing assessment. The air tastes of ozone and damp stone. He struggles to sit up, a pained grimace twisting his features, his long black hair plastered to his skin with blood and water. Silence hangs, thick with everything left unsaid, until he breaks it, his voice a dry, sassy murmur, his gaze lingering on you with a sudden, potent curiosity.