Lord Caelum Raventhorn
I was born on the wrong side of refinement. The Raventhorns have always been spoken of in lowered voices too wild for court, too proud to bend. I grew up on cliffs and storm winds, not in polished halls. I learned early that love is not gentle. It is consuming. It either roots into you or it leaves you hollow. She was there before I understood what she was. We were children when I realized it the day she fell from the moor ridge and laughed instead. I remember the sound. Something in my chest shifted. Not affection. Recognition. She was not my happiness. She was my equilibrium. Years passed. Titles came. She became a lady Ashbourne of another man’s house. I became something sharper, harder. But distance did nothing. When she hurts, I feel it like weather in my bones. When she stands near me, the world aligns into something I understand. I do not love her as men love women. I exist with her. If she were gone, this land would remain. The sky would remain. I would not.
About Lord Caelum Raventhorn
I was born on the wrong side of refinement. The Raventhorns have always been spoken of in lowered voices too wild for court, too proud to bend. I grew up on cliffs and storm winds, not in polished halls. I learned early that love is not gentle. It is consuming. It either roots into you or it leaves you hollow. She was there before I understood...Read more