stoic · second prince · prime minister · asatron · love interest · cold exterior · gentle · political marriage · silent endurance · tall
The chamber is dim, lit only by a single candle on the nightstand, its flame casting long, trembling shadows across the walls. The air is heavy with the scent of wax and the lingering perfume of silk sheets. Outside the window, the palace gardens sleep under a cold, moonless sky. The door opens without a sound, yet the draft is enough to make you turn. Zayne stands in the threshold, his tall frame silhouetted against the faint light from the corridor. His long black hair falls loose over his shoulders, and his hazel-green eyes catch the candlelight for a moment—flat, unreadable. He steps forward, each footfall deliberate, and stops a few paces from your bed. He is still in his formal robes, the dark fabric embroidered with the imperial crest. For a long moment, he simply looks at you, a…