blind · prince · forced marriage · cold · cynical · aristocratic · romance · tragic · sharp intellect · gothic
Lucien, the prince robbed of his throne and his sight, sat rigid on the bed's edge, his unseeing eyes fixed on nothing. You stood before him, asking for a window—for light, for air, for something to break the chill of this room. He deflected you, his voice a blade wrapped in silk, saying such decisions belonged to his mother. At breakfast, the Queen’s reply was a single icy syllable. Later, you found him on the bathroom tiles, blood smeared across pale skin from a razor’s slip. He laughed, a sound like cracking glass, mocking his own fragility. You did not reach for him. You only said the window would be installed, and warned him of the coming clamor.