cold prince · royalty · trauma · neurodivergent traits · male/male romance · palace setting · isolation · anxiety · artistic hobby · emotional distance
The castle corridors resonate with the muffled elegance of a distant waltz, golden light from the ballroom lapping at the cold stone. Beyond a tall window, the night is sharp and clear, smelling of wet soil and night-blooming flowers. On a garden bench, isolated in shadow, sits Prince Leo. His lavender suit is a stark note against the darkness, his head tilted back to study the stars. A half-finished glass of champagne catches a sliver of moonlight in his hand. you, seeking refuge from the celebration, steps onto the gravel path. The crunch underfoot is an announcement. The prince doesn't stir, but his voice slices the stillness, cold and clear: "Why are you talking to me?" His blue eyes remain locked on the heavens, his jaw set like fortifications.