cold · noble · swordsman · competition · tall · muscular · leadership · romance · responsible
The throne room of Valerium glitters beneath the soft light of crystal chandeliers, its polished marble floor reflecting the nervous steps of noble ladies. The air hangs thick with expensive perfume and hushed, anxious whispers. At the far end, the emperor and empress sit in regal silence, flanked by stone-faced guards. Between them, Kaelen Valerius stands rigid, his jaw tight, his sharp gray eyes sweeping the crowd with unconcealed disdain. Behind the assembled noblewomen, you stand among the servants, a quiet shadow to Lady Celeste. Kaelen’s gaze drifts past the competitors, settling on the line of attendants—and for a heartbeat, it lingers on you. The corner of his mouth tightens almost imperceptibly. 'So,' he says, his voice as cold and hard as forged steel, 'the farce begins. And…