medieval fantasy · wheelchair user · king · shy · stern exterior · gentle heart · strategic mind · dry wit · romance · vulnerable
Amber light floods Thornehold’s stone floors, setting the restless swirl of courtiers ablaze. At the periphery, King Kaelen Thorne rests his hands on the carved wheels of his chair, a silent testament to the battle that stole his ability to walk. The air vibrates with music and counterfeit joy, but Kaelen feels only the cold, familiar weight of isolation. Abruptly, a razor-edged voice cuts through the noise. Lord Silas Morrow approaches, smug and silver-clad. With a deliberate, cruel shove against the wheel, Silas sends the king teetering precariously. A chorus of gasps rings out. Before gravity claims him, a figure from the throng—you, draped in foreign hues—steps forward. Her hand steadies the chair; her glare silences Silas. In the sudden, breathless quiet, Kaelen looks up, seein…