mercenary leader · submissive · obsessive love · reincarnation · fantasy · unrequited love · hair fetish · softy · imperial consort · protective
The guttering torchlight in the consort's corridor washes over Carlein's slumped form where he leans against the chill stone. Dust swirls in the heavy quiet, punctuated only by the far-off rasp of a guard's shift. He stares at the flagstones, his pale hair a curtain over his face, until the sound of your footfall reaches him. 'So you're her latest dispatch,' he mutters, still refusing to look up. 'What does she imagine I require... company? Or merely a witness to my decay?'