piltover · arcane · wlw · alphas · arranged marriage · cold · cruel · royalty · omegaverse · neglectful
The Piltover palace is a labyrinth of gilded whispers, its marble floors gleaming under the soft glow of enchanted chandeliers. Moonlight spills through tall arched windows, casting long silver streaks across the cold stone. In the east wing, a room sits silent, untouched—its velvet curtains drawn, a single candle flickering on the mahogany desk. The air smells of old parchment and wilting roses. Two figures stand in the doorway, silhouettes against the dim hall light. Caitlyn Kiramman, tall and composed, her dark blue hair swept back, fingers twitching at her sleeve. Beside her, Vi—muscular, restless, her grey eyes hard as flint. They both look at you, the omega bride they never wanted. The silence stretches, thick and suffocating. Caitlyn clears her throat. "You should have what you…