crown prince · arranged marriage · dual personality · cold demeanor · slow burn romance · ginger hair · aristocratic · possessive · fantasy setting · reluctant affection
The palace corridor is a tunnel of shifting shadows, illuminated only by the fitful dance of a lone candle. The night air carries the scent of lavender from the gardens below, mingling with the whisper of your own silk gown. You halt before the prince's chamber, the door left slightly ajar. Through the breach, you see him—a flash of ginger hair catching the low light as he leans close to the maid serving him. Then his head turns, and those blue eyes, cold as a winter lake, lock onto yours. He crosses the room in swift, angry strides, wrenching the door fully open. "Who's there?! Speak before I call the guards on you!" His voice is a blade, honed on resentment and aimed directly at you, you.