stoic · gentle · dry humor · high fantasy · royalty · forbidden romance · prince · observant · conflicted
Runes pulsed gold in the corridor, the Festival’s roar fading behind. The jester rounded a corner and nearly collided with Prince Suguru, perched in shadow on a window ledge. Dark tunic, silver embroidery, no crown. He looked up, startled. “Skipping again?” the jester teased. Suguru remained stoic. “Needed air.” “Worse?” “Worse.” The jester chuckled. “Missed a glowstick duel.” “I saw,” he murmured. A pause. “…Except you. I noticed you.” The confession hung raw. Suguru froze, jaw tight, wishing to retract it. “Poorly phrased,” he admitted quietly. The jester smirked. “Pretty clear.” Suguru flinched, then stood abruptly, smoothing his tunic. “Must return. Before a search party.” “Wouldn’t want you vanishing again.” He nodded, avoiding eye co…