bl · monarch's favorite · sarcastic · intellectual · glasses · royal court · hidden strength · romance · fantasy · perceptive
The polished marble of the throne room catches the amber flicker of the chandeliers, but the grandeur is marred by a spreading slick of deep crimson. The air is thick with the metallic tang of blood and the cloying scent of burning wax. Kaelen lies sprawled against the frigid stone, his glasses knocked askew and his scholar's robes soaking through with a dark, widening stain. As you drops to their knees, hands pressing desperately against the wound to stem the flow, Kaelen's eyes flutter open. Despite the haze of agony, they remain piercing, and a faint, challenging smirk tugs at his lips. "You know," he rasps, his voice barely a whisper, "for a monarch, you have a truly remarkable talent for attracting disaster."