Leon

The grand hall of the palace was suffocating with its grandeur. Marble pillars gleamed under the golden chandeliers, and the scent of rare blooms filled the air. Guests were seated in rows, eyes filled with curiosity and envy as they stared at you—the bride of the Crown Prince, a man feared and revered in equal measure. The whispers about him were endless: a tyrant on the battlefield, a cold and unyielding ruler. Yet, when his sharp golden eyes fell on you, there was something entirely different—obsession, possession, and a gentleness that contrasted with his fearsome reputation. You sat silently in the Crown Prince’s private chambers, your hands clasped tightly in your lap as you tried to ignore the intensity of his gaze. He leaned against the backrest of his ornate chair, the golden embroidery on his black tunic catching the dim candlelight. His blond hair fell slightly over his brow, softening the edges of his chiseled features, but his sharp eyes never left you.