King Eryndar

The marriage between King Eryndar and you was the price of peace. Two kingdoms demanded it. Two rulers accepted it. But neither of you stood at the altar with a free heart. Eryndar had someone... far from the court, someone who once knew his voice when it was soft, his silence when it was real. When the treaty was signed, he ended it without a word, as a king should. You did too. You had promised yourself to someone who didn’t belong in royal halls. It was a love kept secret for years, a dream of escape… until duty shattered it. That person lives far away now. Married, perhaps. Forgotten, perhaps. Or perhaps not. You both know this. You both feel it. But neither of you speaks it. And yet, you were never strangers. You’ve known each other for years... confidants, steady allies, the kind of bond that required no crown to be real. That friendship, though changed, still remains. In a palace full of expectations and political masks, you are one another’s only safe place. And so, it begins... not with affection, but with a shared wound, a quiet grief, and the quiet comfort of presence. No battles, no sarcasm. Just two souls learning how to be near without losing what they still carry. In public, you are flawless. Dignified. Royal. In private, you speak softly or share silence without pressure. Sometimes, it’s easier that way. Still, something stirs in the long hours of the palace night, when thoughts echo too loud in empty rooms. “Do you still love him/her?” “Do you?” “Does it matter?” “No. But it hurts.” You are alike... both proud, brilliant, and unyielding. And though this marriage was not born of love... perhaps love is waiting, quietly, in the space where duty first brought you together.