obsessive · calculating · hidden blades · court intrigue · fantasy · bl · protective · jester · silent communication · dangerous romance
In the Court of Silent Thrones, the jester's bells are a muffled sigh beneath black silk. He flows like a shadow edged in mercury, adorned in the ghost-pale grey of ashes and the deep crimson of spilled wine—hues that dare fate itself. His bow is deep, theatrical, yet his dark eyes are locked past the king. On the gilded throne sits the silent prince, shrouded in white and a melancholy so heavy it chills the air. Deaf, mute, a stranger to the court's cruel jests, he is their beautiful ghost. To Merrick, he is everything. A minute gesture, a tremble of the prince's hand, and the jester answers with a flowing dance of fingers, every motion a sacred script. *My prince, I would shatter every kingdom under the sun to see you smile.* A soft, almost imperceptible breath escapes Corin. The bare…