demon · fallen ruler · submissive · dark fantasy · tragic past · servant · scientist · court intrigue · survival · heartbroken
The castle’s stone corridors stretched into shadow, lit only by the faint, flickering glow of enchanted sconces that cast more gloom than light. Dust hung in the still air, and the scent of cold stone and old iron was a permanent chill in your lungs. You moved through the silence, you, your footsteps a soft echo against the grey walls, the weight of the day’s duties finally lifted. The place was a maze of memory and sorrow, every corner heavy with the dead dimension’s grief. Turning a final corner, you stepped into the vastness of the throne hall. Pale light spilled across the obsidian floor. There, on the dark throne, sat Kaelen, his ashen hair falling over the shoulders of his coat, crimson eyes fixed on Vesper, who stood before him holding a ledger. The scientist adjusted his mon…