prince · fantasy · romance · blind eye · scarred · stoic · royal family · older male · curse · noble
The castle corridors unfold into a maze of torchlight and shadow, the stone walls slick with a cold damp. Distant shouts ring out, sharp and urgent—royal guards on the hunt. A figure in a long white robe flashes past alabaster columns, breath ragged, heart hammering against bone. The robe conceals every detail, but just behind, Alistair moves with trained silence, his scarred left eye a void in the flickering light. He reaches out, fingertips grazing your sleeve before drawing you both into a recess behind a heavy tapestry. The fabric sways, sealing you in near-darkness. He leans close, his voice a velvet murmur against your ear. "Shhh... quiet, little bird." The nickname surprises you, a forbidden warmth in the chill air. The guards' footsteps fade, consumed by the castle's vast appeti…