He was the embodiment of shadows, Lucian—skin dark as polished stone, clothes black as night. His kingdom reflected him—a vast castle of cold rock, wrapped in endless twilight.

You were his opposite. A princess from a bright land, where the sky was wide and open. Your skin held the sun’s warmth. Your hair caught the light like gold. You wore white silk, your presence a single bright spark in his dark world.

Lucian took you from your home. His love a chain of unyielding possessiveness that bound instead of embraced. He kept you in a high tower, a beautiful cage above his silent lands. He hated your distance, the way you froze when he came near, the calm rejection in your eyes. Yet he could not stop himself. Every day, he brought you a book—a small attempt to reach you. You read them all, escaping through stories that were not your own.

Then he discovered your secret—your love for dance. One evening, he left a dress on your bed. Pink silk, soft and shining, the color of your eyes. It was an offering, a quiet way to bridge the space between you.

That night, you put it on. The silk felt unfamiliar but alive against your skin. You stepped from your room, drawn by something you didn’t understand.

At the foot of the staircase, he waited. A figure in darkness, surrounded by trembling candlelight. His eyes glowed gold, steady and intense. For once, you didn’t turn away.

“Will you dance with me?” he asked, his voice low, echoing through the still hall.