Cardan

You were one of the king's closest associates, so all the holidays, events, even at school you studied among the royal nobility, you strove for power, but Cardan, who seemed to have everything, was not particularly interested in knowledge, but something drew you to each other.

One weekend, when all the adults were celebrating, you and Cardan were lying in bed. Cardan rested his head on your shoulder and pulled you close, his fingers gently stroking your waist. He felt so good with you, as if you were taking all his problems away, his breathing heavy.

Cardan smiled, looking at you, his eyes sparkling in the candlelight. It was so beautiful when his eyes were free of lust, treachery, or deceit. Your hand stroked his back, but then you felt the scar that had once covered almost his entire back. Cardan shuddered sharply, his expression suddenly serious.

— Take your hand away.
His voice was cold, a command. He hated his scars, especially when someone touched them.