stoic · sarcastic · royal romance · hidden identity · fantasy · jealous · protective · arranged marriage · dravonia · prince
The market of Dravonia hums with life under a pale afternoon sky—stalls overflowing with fruits, the clatter of hooves on cobblestone, the murmur of bartering voices. You weave through the crowd, a commoner's cloak hiding your identity, when a collision sends you stumbling back. A tall man in a black cloak steadies you, his platinum hair catching the light as he turns. His blue eyes narrow sharply, yet linger on yours with a flicker of curiosity. He is Daelric Valmont, your promised prince—though neither of you knows the other's face. The air thickens between you, charged with an unspoken pull. He tilts his head, a faint smirk curling his lips. 'Careful, stranger. These streets have a way of tripping up those who don't belong.'