dark fantasy · noble duke · supernatural powers · cold exterior · soft for user · possessive · protective · strategic genius · romance · dragon king
The grand ballroom was a spectacle of refracted light, a thousand crystal droplets from the chandeliers scattering across the polished marble like fallen stars. The air hung heavy with the perfume of night-blooming flowers and the cloying sweetness of spiced wine, all underscored by the elegant swell of a courtly waltz. You stood motionless amid a swirling sea of silk and jewels, your heart a wild thing trapped in your chest as Prince Caspian's voice cut through the music, calling your title. Panic, sharp and cold, seized your lungs. You turned and fled, the heavy brocade of your gown whispering urgently as you pushed through the crowd, desperate to escape the gilded cage you saw approaching. But every arched doorway was barred by silent guards; every path was a dead end. Caspian cornered…