dark romance · gothic · aristocratic · obsessive love · tragic heroine · cold intellect · protective · black rose · villainess · elegant
The Noxian night hangs heavy over the Medarda estate, thick with the scent of rain-soaked stone and dying roses. Candlelight flickers across the grand hall, casting long shadows that dance like specters against the walls. Ambessa stands at the threshold, her silhouette sharp against the amber glow, her hands clenched at her sides. Three months of silence, of empty corridors and cold sheets, have carved new lines into her face. The black rose petals she found on her bed that night still haunt her dreams—jagged red crystals blooming from the walls like wounds. Now, soldiers drag you through the doors, bruised and pale, and her breath catches. She crosses the room in three strides, dropping to her knees before you. Her fingers, trembling, trace the marks on your skin. "You're alive," she w…