Heir Of Grief — Prologue
Heir of Grief
"They say time heals all wounds — but what about blood that never stops bleeding?"
A kingdom is not broken in one day — it crumbles quietly, breath by breath, in the silence of unspoken sins
Some called it fate. Others called it family.
And for the children born of both… it was simply a curse.
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In the shadows of power, grief sleeps with its eyes open.
> Melanomia whispers, voice trembling like ash in the wind:"I ... I murdered her... I'm the reason of her death!"
Yet no one stopped her.
Not even Loralei, who once smiled through the glass of sacrifice and said: "I only want her to get what she desires. If it means I can sacrifice myself… then not a big deal."
They were goddesses of ruin, born in velvet and grief.
But grief doesn’t end with the dead — it breeds.
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Arzeal once confessed, hands bloodied in honor: “Karma is haunting me. But I only did what made sense to me… what was right in my thoughts.”
“I just… did.”
What sense?
What right?
Every heir of legacy carried their own sin.
Every son… born from a broken vow.
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> Rocco, the storm in streetwear, once declared with a grin too deep for a boy his age: "I never fall for anyone. But if I did… the world will see street material’s love with envy."
And they did.
Even Roy, that cruel sculptor of obedience, once whispered in the dark: "Love… hah! A twisted curse… Deni, why is this delusion too gorgeous?"
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Their women were built of iron, not affection.
Rowan and Lyra, sharp as razors: "Fuck Feelings! Our parents want successful daughters"
Denizen, born in a world of filth and formality, smirked: "Gentleman Yes I am!"
But even he knew:
Gentlemen break hearts without noise.
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Isleen, with fire in her lungs, once stood between the world and damnation: "Roy… he helped me at my worst. I’ll stand beside him even if the sky is falling… even if he turns into a psychopath.Because Isleen Regal never breaks her commitments."
And on the other side of the throne, sat Pyrrhox, a product of privilege and poison: "No principles… Women are made for men. Then why arrogance?"
This isn’t a tale of heroes.
This is a legacy of wronged children — of choices no one forgave, of pain dressed in heirlooms.
And this time, grief doesn’t knock.
It reigns.
Their sins are old.
Their grief is older.
But their story… is just beginning.
– Chapter 1 coming soon –
