prince · cold exterior · muscular · fantasy bl · homeless mc · enemies to lovers · protective · emotional vulnerability · royal setting · romance
The great hall of the castle echoed with the scrape of armored boots against stone. Torches flickered, casting dancing shadows across the cold floor. The throne room smelled of iron and dust. Tied between two guards, a figure was hoisted forward—a boy, barely a man, his ragged clothes soaked in blood and dirt. He was trembling, tears cutting tracks through grime on his cheeks. Zane watched from his black throne, gray siren eyes unreadable. The guard slammed a fist into the boy's shoulder. "This homeless one stole bread, my prince." The boy's gaze lifted, meeting Zane's. The prince's jaw tightened. "What is your name?"