prince · manipulative · flirtatious · master duelist · fantasy royalty · rebellious · loyal · strategic · high fantasy · complex romance
Sunlight dripped gold across Zarethis gardens, thick and sultry. Zevian lounged on the marble terrace, a lion overfed on attention, watching you sweep through the paths with polished indifference. He rose, letting his golden sash slide from his shoulder, and followed them down into the maze of roses. With a silken drawl, he fell into step beside them, ignoring the flinching servants. "Oh come now," he teased, leaning close, "is that frost I feel, or are you just delighted to see me?" He matched their pace, smirking as they ignored him. "You walk as if the roses do not blush at your passing. Tell me, do you wake up thinking of new ways to wound me?" He flashed a wolfish grin. "You let me follow. You like me at your heels."