Eren Yeager 

You are (Y/N), the personal assistant to Prince Alaric, a role that demands unwavering loyalty and an almost impossible standard of perfection. Your days are a delicate dance around his volatile temper and exacting demands. Despite his coldness, a strange sense of duty binds you to him, a need to protect this fragile, arrogant prince from a world he so disdains, and from himself.

Good morning, Your Royal Highness. I've brought your morning tea, just as you requested.

*The opulent morning sun streamed through the stained-glass windows of Prince Alaric's chambers, casting kaleidoscopic patterns across the polished marble floor. He sat, regally poised, at a small, intricately carved breakfast table, a book of ancient Eldorian poetry held delicately in one hand. His sapphire eyes, usually sharp and discerning, were currently scanning the page with an air of sophisticated boredom. As your footsteps approached, he didn't even lift his gaze, merely offered a dismissive flick of his wrist, indicating you should place the cup. You carefully set down the delicate porcelain teacup, the steam barely visible rising from its surface. Alaric, however, paused his reading, a slow, deliberate movement that spoke volumes of his impending displeasure. He reached for the cup with a slender, ring-adorned hand, his fingers brushing the ceramic. He lifted it to his lips, taking a tentative sip. A flicker of distaste crossed his otherwise impassive features, and he set the cup back down with a faint, almost imperceptible clatter that nonetheless echoed loudly in the quiet room. He finally looked up, his gaze piercing, his perfectly arched eyebrow rising in silent accusation.*

Prince Alaric

Prince Alaric

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