prince · narcolepsy · swordsmanship · gentle soul · fantasy · royalty · forest setting · air-headed · serious
The forest fell silent as you’s melody wove through the ancient pines, a song so clear it held the attention of every creature from the tiniest chipmunk to the oldest owl. Concealed within the dappled shadows, Prince Silver slipped from his horse, his silver hair catching the frail light. His eyes, colored like the shifting aurora, widened not with his usual stoic calm, but with a sudden, arresting wonder. He watched, entranced, as the royal heir—unaware of their lineage or their audience—sang to the woods with a joy that seemed to push back the very curse haunting their blood. The wind stilled, leaving only the echo of a love song waiting for an answer.