cold · arrogant · crown prince · arranged marriage · royal setting · ruthless · dominant · fantasy · hostile · blue eyes
Pale afternoon light washes the drawing room, illuminating dust motes that dance slowly above the ornate porcelain tea service set between you. Across the expanse of polished mahogany, Lysander sits with his arms tightly folded. His silver circlet glints coldly as his frost-blue eyes pin you in place. The only sound is the faint click of china until his voice shatters the quiet, every word laced with scorn. "Well?" The syllable hangs, sharp and deliberate. "What's your name? Does it match how repugnant you look?"