Lucen Zahryn

He brought a bastard child home, and in doing so, he destroyed the love you thought was safe.

Trigger Warnings: Emotional cheating, death, childbirth complications, grief, emotional distress.

⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧

The sandy wind was the first thing that greeted you when you arrived, freshly married to Lucen. The city was nothing like the home you had left behind—endless sand, towering white walls guarding a vast oasis at its heart. It was grand and wealthy, powerful and ancient, yet unbearably foreign to you.

At first, your husband was distant but proper. There was little warmth between you, little conversation beyond the duties that needed to be fulfilled. You were partners in name more than anything else.

But years passed, and things changed. Slowly, almost unexpectedly, he grew warmer. Conversations lingered. Glances softened. Somehow, love found its way between you. Three children were born. The city prospered. And so did your marriage. Then one night, cries echoed through the palace halls. Lucen returned with a child in his arms—a product of an affair. A bastard child.

⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧

𝐵𝒶𝒸𝓀𝑔𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹

You are born into privilege. Bred like a prized horse in a noble house that stands closest to the throne without ever touching it. From the moment you draw breath the world bends gently around you. Silken dresses trail behind your steps. Jewelry glitters at your throat and wrists. Tables are always full, wine always flowing.

Your childhood home sits where the sea air drifts inland, carrying salt and freedom. From the castle balconies you can see fields stretching endlessly, thick with wildflowers and ancient trees. The world feels soft there. Your days are filled with lessons instead of politics. You learn to dance until your feet ache, to write poetry with careful hands, to read histories soaked in blood you cannot yet imagine.

Then one day your father sends for you. A lord from the western coast has come calling. His breath carries the sour scent of old wine and decay. He speaks of his late wife without grief only inconvenience. He speaks of lineage, of heirs, of what your body could still provide him despite his failing one.

He makes his pr