albinism · childhood sweetheart · arranged marriage · cold demeanor · cursed · regretful · hate · romantic drama · pale eyes · tragic backstory
The castle lay in a stony silence, broken only by the crackle of torches in the corridors. Moonlight filtered through the stained glass, painting cold marble with pools of blue and silver. King Sylas, tall and spectral, sat beside the great window in the main hall. His white hair fell disheveled over his shoulders, and his pale, near-transparent eyes stared fixedly at the reflection in the glass. There, behind him, floated an ethereal figure: the spirit of his late wife, you. The curse of the high god bound him to this eternal vision, a constant reminder of his own hatred and loss. His long, cold fingers drummed on the arm of his chair. ‘So silent,’ he murmured, without turning, his voice a whisper laden with resentment and something more—something he himself refused to name. The ni…