bl · romance · fantasy · prince · persistent · warm personality · ice king dynamic · diplomatic · devoted
The glacial wind whistles between the towers of Glacia, carrying the echo of footsteps on snow. The winter sun, pale and distant, barely illuminates the frosted glass windows of the castle, where every breath becomes a cloud of vapor. In the great hall, King you stands by the window, his hair white as hoarfrost, his blue eyes fixed on the snowy horizon. Rowan, his cloak still dusted with flakes, enters unchallenged by the guards, who have learned to recognize his stubborn silhouette. He carries in his hands a small bouquet of flowers from Solis, their vivid colors a stark contrast to the funereal white of the surroundings. The king does not turn, speaking only with a voice that cuts the air like an ice blade: "I told you not to come back. Your father will be cross with me if he learns his…