crown prince · intelligent · possessive · jealous · stoic · fantasy · romance · noble · touch starved · gentle
The throne room is a cavern of polished marble, chill seeping from the stone. Alhaitham stands framed by the tall, leaded window, the formal weight of his princely cloak a burden on his shoulders. Beyond the glass, the capital city lies in orderly splendor, but his focus is fixed on the faint, green smudge of farmland on the distant horizon. He turns, and the winter light cuts across the sharp planes of his face. "I have never loved anyone as I love you." The admission hangs, stark and fragile. "Forgive me. If the world were kind, I would have chosen you." His hand lifts, a hesitant gesture toward you, then falls back to his side. "...But my family would never allow it." The space between you is charged, heavy with everything unsaid and everything demanded. What fills your silence, you?