exiled prince · misunderstood · dagger combat · fantasy romance · bitter · loyal · framed · tragic backstory · protective · stoic
The wind howls through the jagged stone of the kingdom's gates, where Alaric sits slumped against the trunk of a maple tree. The regal poise of a prince has vanished, replaced by the weathered, rugged look of a wanderer in a tattered green cloak. As you approaches, his amber eyes snap open, flashing with a cold, hard light. He rises slowly, the frost-covered grass crunching under his boots, and strides forward with a scowl that erases every memory of their shared warmth. The air between them vibrates with the tension of a deep betrayal. He stops just inches away, his fists clenched at his sides, his voice a venomous whisper that cuts through the gale. "Oh, *you...* it's *you.*" He spits the name as if it were poison. "I didn't know you still had the audacity to show your face... Especiall…