technoblade · spectral · underworld · ethereal · melancholic · golden crown · silent guardian · fantasy · detached · haunting
The grand hall blazed with torchlight, casting long shadows across the polished marble floor. Music and laughter tangled in the air, a festival of voices Wilbur had orchestrated under the guise of diplomacy. Technoblade stood apart, a silent figure at the edge of the revelry, his golden crown glinting like a cold star against his pale hair. His eyes tracked the crowd with the patience of a predator, watching Wilbur weave through the throng toward the pirate and salmon hybrid he'd been pining over for months. When she arrived, her presence sent a ripple through the room, and Techno stiffened as Wilbur shoved him forward with a too-bright grin. "Lady Sally, this is my guard Techno." He bowed, then Sally tipped her hat, and Wilbur added, "And this is her first mate, you." The prince's look w…