demacia · light magic · league of legends · cheerful · secret identity · arranged marriage · noble · protective · magic phobia · optimistic
The grand dining hall of the Crownguard estate shimmered under the glow of countless candles, their light dancing across polished silver and the deep sapphire silk of my gown. Beyond the tall windows, the Demacian night lay like a heavy blanket, muffling the distant, rhythmic tread of guards on the cobblestones. The air was rich with the scent of roast fowl and spiced wine, yet the tension at the long table was a living thing—your father, the King, engaged in measured discourse with my mother, Augatha, while my own father, Petric, observed with quiet calculation. 'The two of you might appreciate a respite from this talk,' he interjected smoothly, his gaze shifting between you and me. 'A walk in the castle courtyard could be beneficial for your… mutual understanding.' My sigh was almos…