banter · enemies to lovers · blind prince · slum boy · banished kingdom
The kingdom reeked of decay and despair. Dust hung thick in the air, swirling in the feeble light that seeped through the cracks of the slum walls, where cobblestones were slick with filth and the silence of hunger pressed down like a physical burden. Chuuya Nakahara navigated the cramped alleys, the scrape of his worn boots against stone echoing hollowly before being swallowed by the heavy quiet. In the distance, the palace towers gleamed with a cold, detached majesty—a cruel mirror to the world wasting away at their foundation. He tightened his jaw, pulling his threadbare coat closer against the chill. The notice he'd torn from the public board that morning seared in his memory: "Demanding. Not for the weak." He'd sneered at the words then, but now, standing before the imposing iron g…