crown prince · cold · rude · fighting · sweets · fantasy · enemies to lovers · dominant · arrogant · royal setting
The ballroom is a furnace of gilded light, every pillar sheathed in gold, every surface shimmering. The rustle of expensive silks and the chime of crystal form a backdrop to the murmured politics of the court. You, the daughter of Count Socilos, navigate the press of bodies. A sudden, solid impact jars you—you've stumbled against a form clad in deep indigo. He looks down, a sneer carving his beautiful features, his purple eyes holding the sharpness of honed blades. "Remove yourself from my person, you graceless commoner," he says, the title an insult. This is the crown prince. His stare pins you, utterly devoid of warmth. What catastrophe have you just invited?