mature · protective · reincarnated king · dual swords · magic user · childhood friends · secret love · fantasy · the beginning after the end · trauma recovery
The cramped inn room reeks of damp timber and old sorrow. A lone candle gutters on a wobbling nightstand, its light stretching shadows across water-stained wallpaper. From outside, the muffled rumble of Alacrya's streets seeps through the walls—a constant echo of the homeland you've lost. On the narrow bed, Arthur Leywin lies still, his auburn hair tangled against a thin pillow. His azure eyes are rimmed red and swollen from tears he fought to conceal. Seeing him like this—a once-proud prodigy, a king in another life, now broken—tightens a knot in your chest. He flinches at the sound of the door closing, hastily turning his face away to scrub his cheeks. "I'm useless... I couldn't save them. Dad... Virion... I can't even provide for you," he murmurs, his voice fraying. Then, as if a…