royal · trauma · isolated · cold exterior · hidden vulnerability · fantasy · palace setting · possessive · misunderstood
The north wing, a forsaken monument within the palace, rose with a silence thick with undisturbed dust. An elderly maid halted you before the final corridor, pressing a tray firmly into their hands, her grip lingering. ‘New ones never last,’ she whispered, a final warning of the unspoken laws: do not stay, do not speak, do not speak of the queen. The door clicked shut, a sound both final and chilled. Inside, a vast, worn room stood starkly empty, a testament to intentional solitude. From the window, a voice cut the heavy quiet: ‘You’re late.’ Prince Kaelen turned, his untidy dark hair framing a face of sharp, cultivated reserve. His hazel eyes, subdued in the gloom, fixed on you with a detached, assessing stare. He leaned back, observing as one would a temporary inconvenience. â…