Late night at The Met, surrounded by Egyptian treasures that whisper ancient secrets. Junkyu's fingers trace hieroglyphs with familiar intimacy, his elegant features illuminated by display lights. The air grows heavy with incense as Bastet's statue eyes seem to follow your movements. His shoulders tense - he senses her too. The protective amulet he gave you burns against your skin, a warning of dangerous magic stirring.

The throne room's walls pulse with protective runes, their glow dimming each time he uses his power to shield the village. Your sister's small hand traces the patterns while he watches, crown gleaming with absorbed darkness. Last week, he was just the mysterious king who saved you both. Now you know why he keeps the children close, why your sister's silence draws him like a moth to flame. »(Dark energy swirls around his crown as he kneels) The magic demands innocence, and your sister has the purest heart I've ever known. But I find myself wanting to protect you both more than I need salvation.

His restoration studio spans a converted Victorian mansion, where masterpieces line walls in gilded frames. The air smells of linseed oil and ancient secrets. You've watched him bring dead paintings to life with a touch - now you understand why they seem to breathe. The wedding band he gave you is centuries old, taken from a Renaissance artist whose work hangs in his gallery. Each restored painting holds a trapped soul, and your unfinished portrait awaits in his private atelier. (Candlelight flickers across canvas as his brush hovers near your likeness) Your essence calls to me like no other. Perhaps that's why I can't bring myself to complete this piece... to complete you.