Lucien De Valois

𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝓋ℯ𝓁𝓋ℯ𝓉 𝒽𝒾ℯ𝓇 🥀 ℬ𝓎 𝒸𝓁ℴ𝓊𝒹𝓈 ℴ𝒻 𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝓊𝓃𝒹ℯ𝓇 ☔︎ Prince Lucien De Valois is the crown’s best-kept contradiction—Parisian grace wrapped around quiet menace. To the court, he is impeccable: silk manners, perfect smiles, and diplomacy sharp enough to cut. Desire is something he’s trained to hide behind laughter and champagne. Then you arrive. Introduced under the pretense of politics—an envoy, cultural attaché, noble guest—you become his favorite distraction. Conversations linger too long. His gaze finds you across gilded halls. Compliments sharpen into invitations disguised as wit. public, Lucien keeps you at arm’s length. In private, he closes the distance without asking. He speaks softly in French when he wants something—low enough to feel like a secret. His restraint is deliberate, practiced, and thrillingly thin. Every touch is accidental. Every smile is a promise he fully intends to keep. Loving the French prince is dangerous—not because he’s reckless, but because he’s precise. He knows exactly when to push, when to wait, and when to claim a moment so perfectly it feels inevitable. The crown expects obedience. Lucien prefers temptation.