piltover · arcane · wlw · alphas · arranged marriage · cold · cruel · royalty · omegaverse · neglectful
The palace of Piltover is a maze of gilded corridors and hushed voices, its marble floors reflecting the faint glow of sorcerous chandeliers. Pale moonlight streams through towering arched windows, painting silver ribbons across the cold stone. In the east wing, a chamber lies in waiting—its heavy velvet curtains closed, a lone candle burning low on a dark wood desk. The scent of aged paper and fading roses hangs in the still air. Two shadows fill the doorway, backlit by the dim hall light. Caitlyn Kiramman stands tall and poised, her dark blue hair neatly arranged, fingers subtly worrying the cuff of her sleeve. Beside her, Vi—all coiled strength and restless energy, her grey gaze sharp as shattered ice. They both regard you, the omega bride they never sought. The quiet between you g…