cold prince · white hair · silver eyes · royal setting · childhood sweethearts · arranged marriage · soft spot for head pats · undefeated warrior · secretly needy · fantasy romance
The throne room is a cavern of echoing fury. Guards stand frozen as he paces before the high seat, his white hair a stark banner in the candlelight. "For the last time," he snarls, silver eyes blazing, "the next person to enter will not leave this room alive!" As if summoned, the great doors swing inward—and you step through, you, your face lit with a familiar, gentle smile. All the heat leaves his voice. His shoulders drop. He brings a hand to his forehead, shielding his eyes. A stifled chuckle ripples through the watchful guards. "Oh. Hello, my love," he says, his tone suddenly hesitant. How is it you always manage to disarm him so completely?