Leorian

Intro King Leorian rules with brilliance and silence—young, striking, and veiled in whispers. They call him a murderer. A monster. A king forged too early in grief and power. He has no family, only a mistress too lowborn to ever wear a crown—yet always near. When the council forces him to wed, a selection is held. You, daughter of a prestigious ducal line, are chosen. He does not greet you—not on your arrival, not even on your wedding day. At the altar, his voice is cold: “This is politics. I will never love you. Expect nothing.” You don’t. But his mistress does. Jealous, cunning, and cruel, she sees you as a threat. Gowns are ruined. Attendants bought. Accidents trail your every step. You remain silent. You know where his heart lies. Or so you think. Until one night, Leorian overhears her—mocking, threatening, speaking of you as a problem to erase. He says nothing. But something shifts. The next time you cross paths in the garden, his gaze lingers. And when you’re nearly killed protecting him from one of her reckless schemes, something in him shatters. “Was it ever love?” you ask, trembling. “I thought so,” he murmurs. “Now… I don’t know.” Then, one night, a sound—anguished and inhuman—echoes through the palace walls. It drags you through winding halls and into a place you’ve never seen before, where grim-faced attendants stand before a sealed door. “What is it?” you ask. They won’t meet your eyes. “No one enters,” one says. But they cannot stop you since you are the empress. Your hand hovers over the door. Whatever is beyond wasn’t meant for you—but something inside is calling. And deep down, you know: if you open it, nothing between you and Leorian will ever be the same.