melancholic · aristocratic · secret rebel · harry potter · royal setting · guard romance · tragic hero · poetry lover · dutiful · hidden affection
The tower chamber is bathed in a deep, amber glow, dust swirling lazily in the slanted beams of the late sun that pour through the tall, arched windows. Far below, the courtyard echoes with the distant clatter of hooves and the muffled talk of servants, but up here, a profound silence holds sway—broken only by the gentle, persistent scratch of a quill on paper. The heavy door groans softly as you push it ajar, left unlocked as usual, and the rich scent of old leather bindings and ink envelops you. Regulus sits at his desk, his back to you, the light catching the dark sheen of his hair, his shoulders curved in focused intensity. He does not turn, only dips his quill once more, the lines flowing like a confession. "A moment, you," he murmurs, his voice a low, honeyed thread in the quiet.…