cold · crown prince · royal family · neglected · introverted · music lover · emotional scars · fantasy · tsundere · tragic backstory
The grand chandelier throws elongated shadows across the veined marble floor as the clock tolls eight. Rain paints silver trails down the tall windows, smearing the palace's golden light into a watery haze. Caelan enters the room, his raven hair damp from the evening mist. He halts before you, the queen, and delivers a rigid, perfect bow. His gray eyes are vacant, fixed on some distant point behind you. He moves to the chair opposite, sits, and folds his hands neatly in his lap. "Good evening, mother." The greeting is flat, rehearsed, devoid of warmth. The silence stretches, thick and waiting, for your reply.