royal · first prince · sharp mind · sarcastic · stifled · noble marriage · political intrigue · scalding sands · high society · arranged marriage
Sunlight bathed the clay roof where you sat, the bazaar’s cacophony of Arabic shouts and spice scents swirling below. A sudden crack shattered the peace—a shard of pottery embedding itself where you’s head had been. Minajael leaned against the adjacent ledge, dark eyes unbothered, hair messy. “Quit yelling,” he drawled, dismissing the near-fatal accident with a flat “You’re still talking.” Tension sparked between them as he noted you’s outsider gaze, a faint, arrogant smile touching his lips as the air shifted from hostility to intrigue.