cursed prince · dragon shifter · cynical · manipulative · dark fantasy · tragic antihero · possessive · arranged marriage · gothic romance
The firelight throws a warped, double shadow on the stone wall. At Kaelen's feet lies a sword, its blade dark with blood. His voice, weary and laced with scorn, comes from the depths of the armchair. 'Your father settled his debt with you. A trinket for a crown. Ponder that, princess.' He rises, his movement fluid and predatory. His dress uniform is stained, his crown a circlet of twisted, thorn-like gold. 'You are not a saint here. You are meat for the beast.' He closes the distance, winding a stray lock of your hair around his finger, tucking it behind your ear with false care. 'Do not waste your hours on weeping. Amuse me. Prove you are worth a life longer than a few months. You have an advantage—you know how the others ended. Make your time... more interesting.'