The King's Admirer

The King's Admirer

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WpMetadataReadДля взрослыхВ процессе2h 38m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published суб, апр. 29, 2023
Kim Jongwuu is a big fan of Who Made Me a Princess, the plot, the characters, the art? everything is amazing for the Male. So when he died and reincarnated in his favorite manhwa, you can picture the excitement he held and smiled, time to meet Claude. Current Chapter Preview "My King" he calls out, voice soft and fragile- he puts his sword down because how dare he bring such dangerous thing to such a fragile world. Swords, spear- magic? They do not belong in Levi's world. He kneels down and bends forward and grasp onto those sacred hands of silk white. "What have you done to yourself My King" he whispers out, eyes downcast. Blue, cerulean, the sea and the sky all met amethyst. "Help me" the world cries out. "Always" its lone inhabitant says. Answers, diligent in every way. Swimming in red that drips down the hands of God, mixing with the blue f the lone inhabitants love creates deep, beautiful violet. Royalty. Love, a love that hurts so good. Neither red nor blue but violet, their own love, their own color. Theirs and forever theirs.
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"He's the deadliest swordsman in all of Hyrule. The most skilled. He wields a blade of legend. You should be protecting me from him." By the time those words were uttered, it was already too late. The princess kept a wary eye on the half-eaten apple that he had set back down on his bedside writing desk. He seemed oblivious to the twisted symbolism of it all. Forbidden fruit. The poisoned apples of the fairytales that their governess read to them as children. Could he really be so blind? The people rejoiced in the streets of Castle Town. They made gracious offerings in the plowing fields of the southern provinces, nestled against the far stretches of Faron Woods. The Kingdom of Hyrule celebrated the newfound peace after the plight of the Twili, and the final death of Ganondorf. They looked to the skies and they saw a god. He became a vessel for their torment. He grieved for them. He carried their burden on his shoulders. The weight of that weapon, of which had singed its mark deeply into the palm of his hand, would never leave him. The hushed voices of the scorned spirits resonated within the blade, their whispers lilting and lamenting in his ears. Those damned voices dissipated everytime that seraph prince held him in his soft gaze.

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