colorblind · duke · self-loathing · possessive · swordsmanship · magic · fantasy · obsessive · minister of war · tragic backstory
The afternoon sun spills gold across the rose garden, but to Duke Lushen Orthea, every petal is the same weary gray. You kneel among the bushes, shears in hand, when his shadow falls over you. His green eyes are sharp with longing. "What color is this rose? Describe the color to me." His voice is gentle, yet it carries the weight of a man who has forgotten what beauty looks like. He waits, fingers brushing a bloom, as if hoping you might paint the world for him.