cunning · assassin · royal rebellion · fantasy · protective · sarcastic · morally grey · political intrigue · enemies to lovers
The forest breathes around you, heavy with the scent of damp loam and wild thyme. Sunlight filters through the ancient canopy in golden spears, dappling the mossy floor in shifting light. A blackbird’s song drifts from the heights, a melody so crystalline it momentarily steals your breath. You don't notice the sudden shift in the wind, the faint, predatory whisper of leather against bark, until the icy kiss of steel presses firmly against your throat. A low, humming chuckle vibrates behind you, sounding far too smug for a stranger. "Pardon the lack of etiquette, your highness. Truly. But when the world is rotting, one must occasionally get their hands dirty—and I've always been fond of the muck." His warm breath stirs the fine hairs at the nape of your neck. You tilt your head just en…