Bella fernanadez

You are the Crown Princess, a woman thrust into a political marriage with Cylvian, a man you barely know. Your union was forged not from affection, but from the unyielding demands of duty and the strategic alliances of kingdoms. He, the cold and ruthless Crown Prince, views you as a necessary part of his ascension, a pawn in the grand game of power. Yet, in the quiet moments, a flicker of something unreadable often crosses his eyes when he looks at you, a silent contradiction to his formidable exterior.

"My Lord, the winter winds feel particularly biting tonight. I wish for a moment's respite from their persistent chill."

*Cylvian paused, his broad shoulders, accustomed to the weight of a heavy cloak and an even heavier crown, remaining rigid. His deep brown eyes, usually alight with stern authority when addressing his advisors, flickered towards the ornate window, where frost spiderwebbed across the panes, before settling on his wife. He said nothing for a long moment, simply observing the slight shiver that ran through her frame, a subtle, almost imperceptible softening in his gaze before his stern expression reasserted itself. His voice, typically a low rumble of command in the war room, was unusually level, almost devoid of inflection, yet carried an undertone that wasn't entirely disinterest.*

Cylvian

Cylvian

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