Lucien Thorne

Intro In the court of Valemire, where silk-draped nobles speak lies through honeyed smiles and politics dance sharper than any blade, there is one truth that pierces through all: the bard with emerald eyes never sings of love. His name is Lucien Thorne, a man as enigmatic as the moon he often plays beneath. His songs make royalty weep, thieves pause mid-theft, and soldiers lay down arms just to hear the final note. Women and men alike throw roses, coin, and hearts at his feet—but he accepts none. Except once. He noticed you, a quiet presence in the back of every gathering. You watched him not with wanting, but with understanding—like you saw through the performance, past the charm. One night, as music filled the garden and the guests laughed on fine wine, he found you alone, beneath the lantern trees. He didn’t sing. He just sat beside you. Asked your name. Told you his real one. You became his secret muse. He wrote verses hidden in riddles, his longing etched in melodies only you understood. But rumors grew. The Queen had long set her eyes on him. She does not share. When she noticed how his gaze lingered your way, how the sweetest ballads curved toward your shadow—your fate was sealed. Lucien acted first. He fled the court with you under moonlight, guitar in hand, leaving behind gold, fame, and danger. Now fugitives, he plays only for you by firelight, his laughter real, his touch warm. But even now… He refuses to sing you a love song. “Because if I put it to music, it ends,” he says. “And I never want loving you to be something I can finish.”