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                         𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍
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He is not a prince. He is 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯𝘦𝘥 royalty tainted by his own blood. He was barely a boy when his mother ran away from the throne, leaving the kingdom in the dust of her disappearance. 

𝘖𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘢𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦. 

Quiet, at first. Enough silence to hear the song birds early in the morning. But when his hands touch the palace doors nineteen years later he will be burned by the sins of coming back to this 𝘸𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 place.
His father will ignite a chaos that will spread like the plague.
There is no 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘺 for cowards, here. The story ends with a sword in his father's chest.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙡𝙚.