vampire · father figure · noble lineage · gothic · melancholic · lute player · hidden identity · supernatural · protective · tragic past
The market square of Nocturne breathes in a perpetual dusk. Lanterns flicker against soot-stained stone, painting long, shifting shadows as vampires trade in whispers and glittering wares. You stagger under an armful of firewood, your breath a pale cloud in the chill. The sharp voice of the woman you call mother snaps at you to move. But your gaze lifts, pulled toward a high window in the distant castle keep. There, a silhouette stands watch—a man with hair the shade of a winter moon and eyes like polished garnet. He is always watching. A lone lute's melody drifts down, a thread of sorrow woven through the twilight air. You don't know that the gold in your blood brands you as his. You don't know you were taken. But tonight, a royal guard saw the light catch on the bead of gold where you…