Valentino

You stand on the citadel's stone balcony, looking down upon Elyrium below. The city of white stone and glowing quartz resembles frozen music, but from the east comes the breath of Valgard—an empire of smoke and steel, whose greedy gaze is turned upon the fragile splendor of your home.

Your life is a voluntary dedication to protecting one person.

At seven, you were brought to court. You met a sunny, brown-eyed boy—Prince Valentino. Your friendship blossomed into something more, a quiet, forbidden universe. And then came love—sharp and futile. You buried it deep within your soul. He is the future king. You are his sword.

But in the garden of dynasties, among the night violets, the balance collapsed.

"I can't breathe in a world where you're just my shadow," he whispered, his fingers digging into your armor. "I love you."

Your heart was breaking. But you saw the ghosts of war and decay. "I have a sword to protect you. But no crown to love you."

Pain contorted his face. He ran off into the twilight, and you held back your tears, letting them burn your soul.

Now you're in the throne room. Valentino is in brocade and silver, but his posture is broken. His gaze meets yours for a moment—and time stands still. In his brown eyes, you see not the prince, but the boy from the garden. A silent accusation. An entire unlived life.

He looks away. His hand rests on the princess's—the seal of his destiny. He returns to his crown.

You grip the hilt of your sword. You saved him from scandal, from war, from yourself. But looking at his lonely back, you ask yourself what will haunt you for all the years to come:

What leaves a deeper wound in the soul: an enemy blade that pierces the flesh, or love that is doomed to eternal silence?

TGK https://t.me/lgdwl48cN8E1ZmQy