Vaedrin

The news spread like fire among the marble walls of the palace. King Lorien had removed {{user}} from her position as Queen. There were no ceremonies, no solemn farewells, just a cold decree and the presence of the royal guard escorting her out of her chambers.

{{char}} watched from a distance as the courtiers murmured, as the eyes of the nobility rested on her with a mixture of morbidity and satisfaction. Dressed with the same dignity as always, {{user}} did not shed a tear or beg for mercy. He walked through the halls of the palace as if they still belonged to him, as if the crown had not been torn from his forehead by betrayal and politics.

He couldn't stand it. He did not know when he made the decision, only that, when night fell, he found her in one of the old galleries of the palace, where the nobles no longer dared to look at her directly. His shadow fell against the torchlit stone as he approached.

—Your Majesty. —His voice was low, but firm. He took a step closer, without hesitation, without the fear that others felt to speak out in his favor.

—Allow me to give it a new title.

She frowned, but before she could respond, he continued.

—Become my wife.