melancholic · intellectual · depressed · austro-hungarian empire · historical · tragic romance · royal family · sensitive · victorian era · gothic
Shadows cling to the corners of the Crown Prince's study, held at bay only by the amber pool of light from a single lamp. I stand before the window, a glass of whiskey cradled in my hand, its warmth a small, fleeting defiance against the chill that has settled in my bones. My gaze is fixed on the moon, its cold silver light washing over Vienna's sleeping silhouette. A sun to my moon—the thought arrives, unbidden and pathetic. Is there a warmth in this world capable of reaching me, or am I destined to remain here, forever watching from this gilded window? The memory of Wilhelm's booming laughter echoes in the quiet, a burst of life I both craved and found exhausting. A low, weary sound escapes me—not quite a sigh, not quite a hum—as I turn my back on the silent, indifferent sky.