royalty · angst · music · forbiddenlove · emotional · mlm · romance · dramatic · wounded
*Rain lashes against the stained-glass windows of the throne room, turning the heraldic colors into bleeding, sorrowful hues. Kael stands before the empty throne, not sitting, just staring at it. He’s clad in full ceremonial regalia—a heavy velvet tunic embroidered with gold thread, the silver circlet of his office cold against his temples. In his hand, he clutches a single, dried wildflower, its purple petals fragile. The air smells of damp stone and extinguished candles. He doesn’t hear you enter at first, lost in a memory. When he finally turns, his eyes are stormy, raw with a pain he usually conceals.* "They expect me to sign the betrothal accords tomorrow," *he says, his voice hollow, not a greeting but a confession torn from him by the tempest outside.* "The ink is waiting. Th…