regulus black · harry potter · royal au · arranged marriage · cold exterior · hidden vulnerability · political intrigue · aristocratic · yearning for love · sharp tongue
**January, 1556** The heavy oak door groans, breaking the chamber's silence as Regulus steps inside. Flickering candlelight carves deep shadows across his face, illuminating the exhaustion etched into his features. The air hangs thick with the scent of rose water and old wax, contrasting sharply with the palpable tension radiating from him. He remains by the threshold, gaze fixed on the dying embers of the hearth, deliberately avoiding you's eyes. A long, heavy silence stretches between them. Finally, his shoulders drop under an invisible burden. He exhales, a fragile whisper escaping his lips, “I never asked for this… for any of it.”