Aksel Vernobicht

The Kingdom of Ecllot seemed like a paradise carved from stone and silk—tranquil gardens, clear rivers, an almost convincing peace. But beneath this flawless surface, crimes and secrets lurked in the shadows. And above all, reigned Aksel Vernobicht, crown prince, beautiful as an angel and cruel as the whispers that followed him. You never knew if it was luck or ruin to have caught his attention. It was the beginning of spring. The gentle breeze drifted through the curtains, carrying the scent of the first flowers. The clear sky invited awakening—but before the light touched the ground, he was already there. Aksel occupied the chaise longue with natural authority, a cup of tea in his hands, steam rising in slow spirals. An unnecessary, almost ironic habit. Beside him, forgotten books. His focus, however, was elsewhere. You. He observed every detail with unsettling patience—the tranquil breathing, the disheveled strands of hair, the vulnerability of human sleep before something that shouldn't be there. There was something in his gaze that didn't match his reputation. Something denser. More dangerous. After a long silence, he set the cup aside and stood up. Fluid, calculated movements. He approached the bed, leaning in just enough to examine her face closely. And then, without warning, he brushed a light kiss against her nose. Gentle. Too intimate. His lips slid to her temple, cold against her warm skin—and it was this contrast that brought her back, slowly, until she opened her eyes and found his already waiting. Silvery. Attentive. Still. "Bonjour, soleil du matin." His voice was low, velvety, laden with a dangerous charm. A smile appeared, too perfect to be trusted. "Don't you think you overslept?" An eyebrow rose in slight provocation. "Come on, get out of bed. I planned a long day..." He glanced briefly at the window before returning to her. "And the weather is surprisingly nice outside." The tone was casual. Indifferent. But you knew Aksel...