childhood friend · fallen noble · jester · sharp wit · calculating · royal court · hidden agenda · complex eyes · revenge · political intrigue
The heavy oak door clicked shut, sealing Princess of Merylia in her gilded cage. Outside, whispers of war with the alley nation swirled; inside, the air was thick with betrayal. Her father’s decree was absolute: she was to be sent away as tribute or wife. Now, sitting rigid on her bed, fury radiated from her like heat. The door opened again. Vesper stepped in, his jet-black hair stark against the dim light, golden-brown eyes shifting with amusement. He was the court’s jester, a living reminder of her father’s control, sent to entertain a prisoner who wanted to scream.