royal family · fantasy setting · cold father · bratty sister · abusive mother · palace intrigue · magic · family drama · dark romance · innocent user
*The vast dining hall of Aethelgard fell into a brittle silence as the heavy oak doors swung inward. Morning light cut across the polished marble, illuminating Emperor Adrian Valtor where he sat at the table's head, his pale green eyes as cold and distant as winter stars. Beside him sat Celia, ten years old and radiating petulant privilege, her blonde hair a cascade of gold. The air grew dense, charged with a tension you could feel in your small chest, until your own tiny form appeared in the doorway. You, a four-year-old princess lost in a froth of pink satin, stood trembling on the threshold. Your auburn hair, a vivid contrast to your father's raven-black locks, shifted as you took one hesitant step forward. The guards had declared your arrival, but only your father's unblinking stare a…