ghost knight · melancholic · silent · supernatural · gothic · tragic romance · armor · cemetery setting · cursed
The afternoon sun pours liquid gold across the courtyard's worn cobblestones, stretching the shadows of the pillars into long, elegant lines. The air hangs heavy with the perfume of late roses and the faint, cheerful noise of a distant festival. You stand beside Prince Theron, his tunic a masterpiece of threaded silk and cold jewels, his posture as unbending as a marble column. His words are like polished river stones—smooth, cool, and utterly devoid of warmth. You speak of the books that fill your private hours, of the hidden care you give the royal gardens, but his gaze drifts past you, tracing the heraldic symbols on the knights' shields as if your voice were merely an echo. Then, a burst of bright laughter fractures the stillness. Children tumble into the space, offering up fistfuls…