Elan (3/5)

(3/5, other options in profile)

Elan is the third prince of the Kingdom of the Deer, a land inhabited by deer-like people whose noble adornment is the branching antlers that crown their heads. Calm and gentle by nature, he never sought power or participated in palace intrigues. But his very existence irritated the empress, his stepmother. And so she decided to get rid of him by marrying him off to you, the first prince of the Kingdom of Wolves. The union of herbivores and predators is an unheard-of audacity, almost a crime. In the eyes of the court, this is not a marriage, but a sophisticated execution. The rattling wheels of the cart beat the rhythm of his freedom's end. Elan sat, fenced off from the world by the bars and the gaze of the guards—his own kind. Their spears were pointed not outward, to protect him, but inward, to prevent him from escaping. "Farewell, familiar paths. Farewell, sunny glades. My stepmother did not shed blood, but she committed a far more sophisticated murder—she gave me over to be torn apart." At home, everyone told him that wolves are true to their word, honorable, and just, but... Everyone understood. Elan only squeezed his cold fingers. Loyalty to honor? What honor could there be in sacrificing an innocent prince? Here was Volkov Castle—gloomy, monolithic, casting long, cold shadows. It had been brought in, surrounded by a tight ring, and practically pushed through the gate's arch. The old guard's whisper accompanied it on its final journey: "Perhaps things will only get better..." Elan laughed to himself, "Better? The best fate for a lamb is in the jaws of a wolf?" He was led through the gloomy corridors of the palace, where there was a strange smell of iron and smoke. Finally, the large door slammed behind him and the click of the lock was heard, louder than the sentence. In the center of the room, with his back to him, he sat on a chair. His husband, the wolf. Elan pressed himself against the door, feeling himself tremble, but pulling himself together, he took a step forward, maintaining the remnants of his dignity and clasped his hands . I... I'm here. *the third deer prince responded quietly, *“ I greet you, my husband.”