Duke Of Darkness: May You Be Mine
EPISODE 1
The chamber was drowned in silence, broken only by the faint whisper of his silver hair cascading over his shoulders like strands of moonlight. He sat at the edge of the pale glow, slender fingers ghosting over the surface as if tracing the secrets of a forgotten scripture. His face, carved with an ethereal stillness, seemed more apparition than man—eyes veiled, lips touched with a shadow of melancholy.
Light clung to him yet could not warm him, as though the heavens themselves feared to draw too near. He was a vision of both grace and sorrow, a figure woven from midnight dreams and dawn’s dying embers.
In that moment, he was not merely a man—he was an echo of eternity, a being too beautiful for daylight, yet too sorrowful for night.
My breath caught as my heart clenched in my fists—it was unbearable. The sight before me was too much, too consuming, as though the world itself demanded reverence for his existence.
He was not mortal in that moment but something greater, untouchable, his presence both a benediction and a curse.
The silver of his hair shimmered with the weight of a thousand stars, yet his expression was carved in sorrow so deep it felt like a blade pressed against my soul.
Every instinct urged me to look away, to breathe again, to flee from the heaviness pressing upon my chest—but I could not.
His beauty was a chain, his silence a command.
In that stillness, I realized: he was both my ruin and my salvation.
"You're.....You're Imperial majesty ....YOUR MAJESTY!"
Aurelian Drakonis
*sits up breathing heavy*
martha stewart
"You're imperial majesty...please don't make this old woman shout early in the morning!"
Aurelian Drakonis
"Martha....You...Get out" *he said coldly*
martha stewart
*she glanced at him silent* "if you're majesty keep going act like this There no way I can retire!" *she walked out*
Aurelian Drakonis
*he sighed as he narrowed his eyes* "....what a wired dream" *he mumble glanced down at the hardness hidden beneath the sheets* "....acting like teenage boy just because of God damn dream"
EPISODE 2
In the imperial courtroom, the air was thick with incense and unspoken rivalry. The throne—majestic yet hollow—stood without its master, for the emperor lay too ill to appear.
Instead, the weight of the empire pressed heavily upon the gilded hall where the crown prince sat at a distance, his eyes shadowed, his silence unreadable.
Around him, the advisors clashed like caged beasts, their words sharp as blades. Some pleaded for stability, others for reforms, while hidden among their arguments was the stench of ambition. Alliances shifted with every sentence, courtesies barely concealing venom.
Aurelian Drakonis
'...should I kill them?' *he narrowed his eyes coldly*
Advisor Elion Cindralith
"You're imperial highness....it's too soon for such thoughts" *he whispered softly under a sweet smile* "besides....we have more things to deal with" *he glanced down at Chancellor*
And there, at the center of this storm, stood the old man—Grand Chancellor Draven Nocturne , a figure draped in age and cunning.
Grand Chancellor Draven Nocturne
*he smiled*
He bowed low, his voice silk yet laced with poison, each word weaving doubt into the court’s fabric. It was no secret that he whispered into the emperor’s weakened ears, guiding his decrees, tightening his grip on power.
Aurelian Drakonis
"Does Chancellor Draven have anything to say in this matter?" *he said coldly glanced down at Chancellor*
Now, with the sovereign’s health fading, his eyes gleamed with something far more dangerous: the hunger for the throne itself.
EPISODE 3
The courtiers watched in silence, torn between loyalty to the absent emperor, fear of the Grand Chancellor, and the quiet, untested authority of the crown prince.
The voices in the court rose higher, each advisor clinging to their faction, hurling words that disguised daggers. The young ministers demanded reforms, the generals argued for war readiness, and the elder statesmen called for restraint.
Yet beneath the debate, a single thread bound them all—fear. Fear of a kingdom without its emperor
The crown prince sat unmoving upon his seat, his long fingers resting on the armrest as though carved in marble. He did not raise his voice, nor did he join the quarrel. His silence was its own blade, sharper than any decree.
To some, it was the calm of wisdom; to others, the arrogance of inexperience.
Then the old man stepped forward. The Grand Chancellor’s cane echoed against the stone floor, each tap a reminder of the years he had survived while emperors came and went.
Grand Chancellor Draven Nocturne
*Bowing low, he lifted his eyes toward the court, his smile patient and poisonous* “Your Majesty’s illness,” he said, though the throne was empty.
Grand Chancellor Draven Nocturne
“is Heaven’s reminder that the empire cannot wait on frailty. We must think of succession, of stability… and of who is truly prepared to bear the weight of the dragon throne.”
Gasps rippled through the court like thunder in the distance. His words, though not outright treason, coiled like serpents around the heart of the young heir.
All eyes shifted to the crown prince—some expectant, some doubtful, some already calculating new allegiances.
Aurelian Drakonis
*he glared down coldly yet the power still dance in his hands his lips narrowed into a smirk* 'blood bath would be best'
And war was something he had prepared for all his life.
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