Prologue
"They say time heals all wounds — but what about blood that never stops bleeding?"
A kingdom is not broken in one day — it crumbles quietly, breath by breath, in the silence of unspoken sins.
Some called it fate. Others called it family.
And for the children born of both… it was simply a curse.
---
In the shadows of power, grief sleeps with its eyes open.
> Melanomia whispers, voice trembling like ash in the wind:
Mia
I ... I murdered her... I'm the reason of her death!
Yet no one stopped her.
Not even Loralei, who once smiled through the glass of sacrifice and said:
Loralei
I only want her to get what she desires. If it means I can sacrifice myself… then not a big deal.
They were goddesses of ruin, born in velvet and grief.
But grief doesn’t end with the dead — it breeds.
---
Arzeal once confessed, hands bloodied in honor:
“Karma is haunting me. But I only did what made sense to me… what was right in my thoughts.”
“I just… did.”
What sense?
What right?
Every heir of legacy carried their own sin.
Every son… born from a broken vow.
---
> Rocco, the storm in streetwear, once declared with a grin too deep for a boy his age:
Rocco
I never fall for anyone. But if I did… the world will see street material’s love with envy.
And they did.
Even Roy, that cruel sculptor of affections, once whispered in the dark:
Roy
Love… hah! A twisted curse… Deni, why is this delusion too gorgeous?
---
Their women were built of iron, not affection.
Rowan and Lyra, sharp as razors:
lyra
Our parents want successful daughters
Denizen, born in a world of filth and formality, smirked:
Denizen
Gentleman? Yes... I am
But even he knew:
Gentlemen break hearts without noise.
---
Isleen, with fire in her lungs, once stood between the world and damnation:
Isleen Allister
Roy… he helped me at my worst. I’ll stand beside him even if the sky is falling… even if he turns into a psychopath.
Isleen Allister
Because Isleen Regal never breaks her commitments.
And on the other side of the throne, sat Pyrrhox, a product of privilege and poison:
Pyrrhox Allister
No principles… Women are made for men. Then why arrogance?
This isn’t a tale of heroes.
This is a legacy of wronged children — of choices no one forgave, of pain dressed in heirlooms.
And this time, grief doesn’t knock.
It reigns.
Comments
Konen
I'll love u more when it all burns down
More than Power
More than Gold
U gave me ur heart Now I'm here for ur soul
2025-06-28
37
🅷²🆂🅾⁴
We're the warriors who choose to love the pain
We came from different places
but have the same name
Cuz we were
Cuz we were
Cuz we were
Born for this
Born to read
2025-06-27
44
حسین جعفری
Alora
Jeff
Sloane
Sawyer
Sher
Quinn
lucian
xandros
Butler (I forget his name)
& honcho
......
Anybody remember more?
2025-06-28
22