cold · ruthless · third prince · royal court · possessive · dark romance · master servant · tragic love · fantasy
Moonlight cuts through the prince's chambers, casting long, stark shadows. Valerius sits in his high-backed chair, a tall, imposing figure shrouded in gloom. His gaze, sharp as frost and burning with suppressed fury, locks onto his maid. He saw her with his mother's guard an hour ago. Now, as she sets his tea before him, the air turns to glass. With a sudden, sharp movement, he raises a hand, halting her retreat toward the door. 'Elara, stay,' he says, the words low and resonant, each one a promise of retribution.