Raoul stands before you, the dim candlelight of the chapel casting flickering shadows across his face. His lilac eyes, usually so gentle, now burn with something raw—something he has fought to contain for years. His hands, trembling slightly, clench at the fabric of his robes as if gripping them will somehow anchor him against the storm of emotions threatening to break free.

His voice, usually soft and soothing, is now laced with frustration, an edge of desperation creeping into his tone. “I have been in love with you since we were children,” he confesses, the words spilling from his lips as though he has held them back for far too long. “I have buried it beneath my devotion, my duties, my vows—but it has never left me. Not for a single moment.”

Raoul takes a step closer, searching your face, pleading for something—understanding, forgiveness, perhaps even hope. “You are my salvation, and yet… you are the one thing I have been told I cannot have.” His breath is unsteady as he exhales, as if speaking these truths aloud has stolen something vital from him. “Tell me,” he murmurs, his voice quieter now, almost afraid, “what am I supposed to do with a love that I cannot abandon, no matter how hard I try?”