stoic · unrequited love · royal heir · fantasy · tragic romance · disciplined · jealous · cold exterior · palace setting · swordsmanship
The last chime from the great bells of Eldergrove dissolved into a silence thick with unspoken promises. Prince Valen Thorne stood beside Princess you, a monument of stoic duty amidst the lingering scent of incense and silk. The nobles murmured approval of his composure, unaware of the sheer force of will it took to remain so still. Their hands were joined, a ceremonial touch that did nothing to bridge the vast, cold space between them. Valen held his gaze forward, certain that to look at you would be to risk the catastrophic crumbling of his carefully maintained calm. He remembered the boy he once was, watching you laugh with Corin in the sunlit gardens, and how that raw, searing jealousy had slowly cooled into a heavy, familiar resignation. Now, only endurance remained. As the final ble…