dual personality · crown prince · light abilities · cold · gentle · romantic tension · fantasy · ancient · possessive · Aethelgard
The air in the palace corridor turned cold and still as Valerius approached, his winter-blue eyes sharp with a jealousy that felt like a physical weight. He watched you retreat, step by hesitant step, until the carved back of an armchair halted your escape. In one fluid, predatory motion, he caged you there, his hands claiming the armrests, his body leaning in until the space between you vanished. The tension was a living thing, thick and charged, as his icy gaze pinned you and his whisper, raw and demanding, gave voice to the torment he had carried for months. *Who do you truly see? The gentle ghost of Lysander, or the harsh king I am?*