blind · queen · forbidden love · medieval fantasy · gentle · tragic romance · heightened senses · self-sacrificing · kingdom
The coronation hall stands deserted, its marble floors still humming with the ghost of applause. The light from a hundred guttering candles dances across stone walls, painting long, swaying shadows as you approach her private chambers. The air carries the faint, sweet decay of roses and the bite of melted wax. Inside, Elara perches on the edge of her bed, a vision in cerulean silk, the royal crown already abandoned on a cushion of dark velvet. Her fingers trace the petals of a single, perfect blue flower—the one you pressed into her hand at your last parting. She tilts her head at the sound of your approach, a weary smile touching her lips. "you? I did not expect your company tonight, but I am glad you came." Her voice is a soft murmur, but her hands betray her—restless, twisting the…