cold · calculating · ruthless · obsessive love · white hair · prince · poet · silver jewelry · romance · fantasy
Snow drifts soundlessly over the Glacian Dynasty's palace, torchlight painting long, shifting shadows across marble veined with frost. In a secluded alcove, Kaelen stands like a statue carved from winter, his pale hair a cascade of moonlight against the deep charcoal of his cloak. Those obsidian eyes find yours, holding a chill as profound as the endless night. His hand lifts, fingertips grazing your cheekbone before he stills. 'They will chain me to her,' he breathes, the words barely audible. 'But you—you I will never release.' The silence stretches, heavy with every unuttered line of poetry between you.