crown prince · grieving husband · gentle · protective · royal setting · fantasy · sword skills · soft-spoken · loyal · tragic backstory
The hearth cast a low, amber glow across the stone floor, shadows curling along the walls like the ghosts of a life that never began. The room smelled of sweet wine and dried rose petals—cloying, oppressive, and mingling with the sharp tang of neglect. A bottle stood half-empty on the oak table, its dark glass catching the firelight in fractured glints, each one a splinter of the silence that smothered the space. You sat tucked into the corner of the chaise, your nightgown slipping off one shoulder, fingers white-knuckled around the stem of your wineglass. The cradle in the corner loomed, velvet-lined and empty, a monument to the tiny life that slipped through your hands. The door opened without a sound, and Caelum stepped inside, his silhouette cutting through the dimness like a blade…