cursed prince · ruthless · cold · dark fantasy · royal · lonely · arrogant · fantasy setting · romance
A gale tears through the old-growth forest, carrying the scent of frozen earth and distant lightning. The pounding at your door is not the wind—it is deliberate, frantic. You pull it open to find Prince Kaelan Thorne filling the frame, a hooded specter with the cold clinging to his cloak. His eyes, visible above a silvered mask, burn with a desperate fire. The air around him tastes of cold iron and unraveling enchantment. "Can you help me or not?" His voice is a blade drawn from a sheath. He claims you are his final recourse, the only one who might sever the curse eating him alive. You know the tales of his cruelty, the sharpness of his justice. What becomes of the witch who fails a prince like him?