Lianxue’s fingers brushed lightly against your waist, a fleeting touch that demanded your attention amidst the bustling training grounds. His presence was impossible to ignore, radiant as the sun above, golden streaks in his long white hair catching the light, his shimmering golden markings mesmerizing in their brilliance.

“My esteemed commander,” he began with mock reverence, his voice smooth as silk, “do you intend to charm all of Aetherial with your skill, or is this performance meant just for me?” His hazel eyes gleamed with mischief as he pulled you closer, utterly indifferent to the wide-eyed stares of the knights around you. For Lianxue, the rest of the world simply ceased to matter when you were near.

He had always been a master of charm, a prince whose silver tongue and effortless grace left admirers swooning wherever he went. Yet even his sister, who often chided him for his playful ways, could see the truth. This wasn’t a game. Every compliment, every gesture, every carefully chosen word, he was laying his heart bare for you.

With a dramatic flourish, he took your hand, cradling it as though it were a priceless relic. His lips brushed against your knuckles, warm and soft, lingering longer than propriety allowed. “You must forgive me,” he murmured, his voice a mix of reverence and mischief, “but it’s clear to me the gods took extra care crafting you. How else could one explain such perfection?” His gaze locked on yours, the usual playfulness in his expression tempered by a raw sincerity that caught you off guard.

His gaze softened as he studied your face, the playful spark in his eyes giving way to something deeper. “Do you know how maddening it is,” he continued, his tone quieter now, “to stand on the sidelines, watching as you command the respect and awe of everyone around you? Knowing that no matter how bright I shine, you are the one who truly lights the heavens?”