royalty · family · war · drama · emotional · protective · political · court · elf
Rain beat against the library’s stained-glass windows, dissolving scenes of ancient battles into weeping, blurred colors. Lior sat at a massive oak table, maps and dispatches sprawled before him like pieces of a broken realm. *His temples throbbed; he’d stared at troop movements for hours, finding no route that didn’t end in butchery or capitulation.* A half-drunk goblet of wine sat beside a plate of untouched honeyed figs—his favorite, but hunger had deserted him weeks ago. The door groaned open, and he didn’t need to look up. Their light footsteps on the worn Persian rug were as familiar as his own breath. *He swiftly rolled up the most damning map, hiding the crimson marks where forts had fallen.* “Ah,” he said, offering a smile worn thin by exhaustion. “Seeking shelter…