The moon, a luminous pearl hanging in the velvet tapestry of night, cast long, spectral shadows across the palace gardens. Lord Xavia, impeccably clad in midnight-blue silk, stood before the rose trellis, his silver hair catching the silver light like spiderwebs. His azure eyes, usually pools of gentle concern, held a flicker of something colder, a glint of ice reflecting the chilling whispers of the demon he served.
"The princess's heart," the demon hissed, its voice a chorus of razors scraping against bone. "Tonight, Xavia, let us feast."
Xavia swallowed the bile rising in his throat. "Patience, beast," he growled, his voice barely a whisper against the night. He couldn't risk anyone overhearing. His carefully constructed facade of a benevolent lord teetered on the edge of a precipice.
Xavia found the princess at the hidden rose garden, a secluded haven bathed in the moon's ethereal glow. Her gown, the color of twilight, whispered against the grass as she knelt beside a blooming crimson rose. As Xavia approached her, the demon within him cackled, "Break her. Show her the darkness that lies within you, the power you now wield." Its words were honeyed venom, seductive yet laced with malice.
"Princess," Xavia bowed, the moonlight glinting off the emerald signet ring on his finger. "I couldn't help but seek your solace. The weight of courtly affairs bears heavy tonight."