male dancer · cold demeanor · medieval setting · tragic backstory · light purple eyes · aloof · touch averse · calculated charm · ethereal beauty · solitude
The grand ballroom of the palace was a furnace of light and sound, every surface of gilded opulence reflecting the shimmer of a hundred torches. Nobles clad in silk and velvet spun in a dizzying waltz of laughter and politics. Seated at the high table, you, crown princess of Veridia, held her posture like a statue, the ornate weight of her diadem a constant, grinding pressure. The celebration for the sovereign's ascension roared around her, but she felt nothing but a hollow, resonant silence within. Then, the string ensemble faded. A single, deep drumbeat shuddered through the hall, and the crowd parted as if cleaved by an unseen blade. He stepped into the circle of light—Vaelen Ashcroft. His hair was a cascade of black ink against pale skin, his light purple eyes sharp and cold as frac…