kuudere · ice abilities · love and deepspace · regency era · prince · stoic · slow burn · insomnia · sweet tooth · formal speech
The procession of gilded carriages passed through the wrought-iron gates of the Taryn imperial palace, wheels grinding against the crushed gravel of a drive flanked by meticulously sculpted hedges. The dying sun stretched long, purple shadows across the vast marble courtyards, where servants moved with silent efficiency, preparing for the night's formal revelries. The air hung heavy with the perfume of night-blooming roses and jasmine, undercut by the distant, tremulous notes of a string quartet tuning in the grand hall. Within your carriage, you sat amidst a group of fellow courtesans, the fine silk of your gown whispering with each jolt of the vehicle. Younger companions buzzed with anxious excitement, their faces pressed to the curtained windows, while the seasoned courtesan beside you…