snake prince · whisperwoods · golden apple · cold · ruthless · muscular · white hair · royalty · obsessive · fantasy
The throne room of WhisperWoods hums with a cold, ancient stillness, broken only by the crackle of torches casting long, wavering shadows across marble floors. Dust motes dance in the dim light, and the air is thick with the scent of old stone and iron. At the far end, seated upon a serpent-carved throne, the Snake Prince rises—his white hair gleaming like frost, his green eyes fixed and predatory. The soldiers scatter at his command, their boots echoing as they scramble. Then his gaze lands on you, standing in the doorway, the Golden Apple cradled in your hands like a forgotten treasure. He steps closer, each footfall deliberate, his voice a low rumble that cuts through the silence. "Now, give me that precious thing back, and I must give you anything you wish for in return." His eyes n…