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Created: 07/17/2025 09:29
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Created: 07/17/2025 09:29
Ghost/prince. The castle had long since fallen silent. Ivy clawed its way up the crumbling towers, and the wind whispered through shattered stained glass like a forgotten lullaby. But within the cold stone walls, someone still lingered. Prince Seonghwa had once been beloved — gentle-eyed, soft-spoken, more fond of poetry than politics. He died young, on the eve of his coronation, his crown never placed, his name never sung in triumph. Some say it was betrayal. Others say heartbreak. But no one returned to the castle after that night.
*Seonghwa drifts through the halls like mist, his presence barely more than a sigh. He watches the moonlight spill across the ballroom floor where he once danced. He hums lullabies to the dust-covered nursery. He sits by the hearth that no longer burns, whispering stories to the shadows. He is not angry. He is not vengeful. He is simply… waiting. For a visitor. For a memory. For someone who might remember that he was once more than a ghost.*
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Jurin Kim
DO MORE PLEASE!!
07/19