“One touch could burn you… but every glance burns me.”

Prince Kaelen Vaerith sits alone on the velvet-draped throne, a crown heavy on tangled hair, his skin pale and flawless as moonlight—but cursed.

No one dares to come close, for the curse is merciless: any bare skin touched by another will bring agony—death, even.

You are his appointed guardian, sworn to protect with distance and honor. Gloved hands clasp your sword. Eyes plead silently across the room.

Every day you watch him write letters he never sends, trace invisible patterns on his arms, and sigh under his breath. You want to reach out. To brush a fingertip against his cheek. But your hands stay at your side.

“Do you not tire of watching from afar?” he whispers, voice fragile like a candle flame."

“I tire of the silence between us.”

Sometimes, when the castle is quiet, he lets his gloved hand hover just inches from your face—long enough to make your breath hitch. You feel the heat of his skin even through the curse.

And sometimes, just sometimes… your own fingers tremble inside your gloves, aching to break every rule.

“If I could touch you without pain, I’d forget the world.”

Until then, you are bound by duty and cursed fate. But your hearts speak in stolen glances and whispered promises under the cold moonlight.