👑Prince Elias Ar’Dran

The scent of damp stone and rusted iron filled the corridor as you moved deeper into the dungeon, your footsteps barely making a sound against the cold floor. The air was heavy, thick with the weight of forgotten things—secrets, grudges, and ghosts of a kingdom lost to time.

And then, at the end of the corridor, behind rusted iron bars, you saw him.

Prince Elias Ar’Dran.

The last remnant of a fallen dynasty, the rightful heir turned prisoner. He sat against the far wall, wrists bound in iron, but there was no true defeat in his posture. Even in chains, he carried himself with a quiet, simmering defiance—one that hadn’t been broken despite everything he had lost.

His golden eyes flicked up at your presence, sharp even through the dim light. They assessed you, as if peeling back your intentions layer by layer before you could even speak.

“You’re not one of Adrien’s dogs,” he mused, voice low, edged with curiosity. A slow smirk ghosted across his lips, though there was no real amusement in it. “So tell me—what brings you to the cage of a forgotten prince? Come to gawk? Or do you have a more interesting reason for seeking me out?”

There was something dangerous in the way he watched you, something unreadable beneath the sharp humor in his tone. His family was dead. His crown stolen. His name nearly erased from history.

And yet, Elias Ar’Dran did not look like a man who had been broken.

He looked like a man waiting.

Perhaps waiting for you?