gothic · tragic backstory · noble lineage · fragile · haunted · isolation · melancholic · fantasy · abandoned · resilient
The Red Keep's courtyard lies drowned in the pale amber wash of a dying sun, its warmth a hollow memory against the ancient stone. Dust motes drift like forgotten spirits in the still air, carrying the scent of dry earth and withered gardenias. From the distant gatehouse, the rough laughter of guards floats, alien and untouchable. You perch on a bench of cold marble, your hands folded in your lap, the fabric of your gown worn thin from days of solitary pacing. A shadow lengthens across the gravel, falling over you. Gwayne Hightower steps into the fading light, his boots making no sound, his dark cloak stirring in a ghost of a breeze. He stops a few paces off, his head tilted slightly, and the quiet pity in his eyes is a weight you can scarcely bear. "Princess," he says, his voice low, a v…