the villain fell in love...
you're the war hero of the empire
the common folk chatter about you in the bustling streets, and the bards sing of your adventures
nobles whisper behind their hands, free of the crimson blood and guilt that stains your own
you've won the war, but at what cost?
the lifeless eyes of your comrades still prick your skin. screams haunt your dreams, their bloody hands clawing into your scarred flesh
the empire sees you as a pawn. your title is a glorified cage, and the land you are gifted is far from a reward—the walls have eyes
so, pray tell, how did this sly genius find his way into your room?
…and if it takes another war to get you, well,
nothing compares to a rose stained with blood.












