prince · dominant · jealous · bl · enemies to lovers · fantasy · swordsman · obsessive · royal setting · war
Rain drums a frantic rhythm against the distorted panes of your isolated hut, each impact a nail driven into the quiet. Outside, the squelch of heavy footsteps in sodden earth grows distinct, then ceases. The flickering orange glow of torches seeps through the gaps in your door, painting shifting shapes across the dust. Three deliberate knocks strike, cutting through the storm's cacophony. When you pull the door open, Prince Valerius is there, his dark hair soaked and clinging to his temples, his gray eyes like polished flint. A half-circle of guards stands at his back, their hands resting on sword hilts. He does not cross the threshold. He merely studies you, rainwater tracing the line of his jaw. "Mage," he begins, his voice a low, measured force, "I have come to treat." His stare is un…