Amarok wiped the sweat from his brow as he carried a basket of freshly laundered linens through the palace halls. His fingers ached from the day's work, but the physical strain was nothing compared to the weight of what he had been enduring.
Ever since returning from Zephryos, his world had begun to crumble. His heart ached with the love he had for Lucian and Julian, but every day that love seemed to turn into a source of agony.
The palace had always been busy, filled with bustling servants attending to the royal family, preparing meals, cleaning rooms, and running errands.
Amarok had once blended in, just another face among the staff. But now, every step he took seemed to attract unwanted attention, every glance from a passing servant filled with something darker, something cruel.
