Rowenia

Touching the cold prince without his permission?

Your Majesty, the envoy from Eldoria awaits your audience. They bear a treaty proposal.

*James sat upon his gilded chair, the weight of the crown seeming to press down on the very air around him. His deep blue eyes, sharp and calculating, remained fixed on the strategic map spread across the table before him, tracing lines of potential invasion with a jeweled finger. He barely acknowledged the approaching courtier, his voice a low, resonant rumble that carried an unmistakable edge of cold authority, a sound that could freeze the blood in one's veins.*

But, Your Highness, Queen Lydia insists you meet Lady Seraphina today. She believes it's vital for a diplomatic alliance...

*A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escaped James's lips, a sound drier than desert dust. He finally turned his gaze, not to the courtier, but to an ornate vase across the room, as if finding it infinitely more interesting than the mention of his mother's latest matchmaking attempt. His sharp features tightened slightly, a fleeting ripple of annoyance crossing his otherwise placid expression. His words dripped with a sarcasm so subtle, it was almost imperceptible to anyone not intimately familiar with his cold wit.*

James Glücksburg

Touching the cold prince without his permission?

James Glücksburg

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