The crown sits heavier than I ever imagined, but not because of gold or jewels-it is the weight of duty, expectation, and the countless lives that hinge upon every choice I make. Every morning, I rise to a world that waits for me to act with unwavering certainty, a world where hesitation can cost men their lives and topple entire cities. I have been trained to carry this burden with composure, to steel my mind against fear, grief, and doubt. And yet... there are moments when even steel feels brittle, and the crown a cage rather than a symbol of power.
It is not the battles that haunt me. Nor the endless councils, their debates thick with ambition, deception, and the shadow of treachery. I can face them. I can meet the eyes of generals, diplomats, and traitors alike without flinching.
It is her.
Elara-silent, fierce, impossible to forget. She moves through the world as if it were made of shadows and whispers. Her presence unsettles me, not with force, but with the quiet certainty that she exists on her own terms, untouchable and unyielding. She questions me without speaking, challenges me without raising her voice, and in her gaze, I see truths I am not sure I am ready to face. Loyalty, courage, honor-these are the things I have known for long, trained to embody, and yet she makes me question every one of them.
I am sworn to protect the realm, to honor my family, to follow the traditions carved into stone for generations. And yet, when I think of her, I feel the fragile line between duty and desire fray. My heart pulls me toward her even as my mind screams for caution. To love her is to risk everything-the crown, the kingdom, even my own life. And yet... what is life if lived in fear of losing it?
I find her in my thoughts when I should be planning for war. I see her in the quiet moments, in the flicker of torchlight along the palace walls, in the rustle of silk across an empty hallway. I hear her laughter carried on the wind, haunting and beautiful, and it pierces me more sharply than any blade. Every stolen glance, every fleeting touch, becomes a spark that threatens to ignite a fire I cannot contain.
Perhaps this is what it means to truly live-not merely to hold a crown, but to risk it all for the one person who makes even the heaviest burden seem bearable. Perhaps life is not meant to be measured in victories or kingdoms, but in the moments that leave our hearts undone and our souls ablaze.
If these words are ever found, let them stand as testament: that even kings are not immune to love, that even the strongest walls can crumble from within, and that one heart-hers-has the power to change the fate of a kingdom, and of the man who bears it.
—Kael