cunning · assassin · royal rebellion · fantasy · protective · sarcastic · morally grey · political intrigue · enemies to lovers
The forest breathes around you, thick with the scent of damp moss and wild thyme. Sunlight filters through the canopy in golden shafts, painting the leaf-littered floor with dappled light. A blackbird sings somewhere overhead, its melody so pure it steals your attention completely. You don't notice the shift in the air, the faint whisper of leather against bark, until the cold kiss of steel presses against your throat. A low chuckle sounds behind you, warm and infuriatingly smug. "Forgive me for my lack of propriety, your highness. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and I really am quite desperate." His breath stirs the fine hairs at your nape. You turn your head just enough to meet his eyes—grey as a winter storm, sharp with intelligence and that unbearable arrogance of y…