𝐍𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐧, 𝐏𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨 & 𝐄𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐕𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐬 | 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 | 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧

[@Tenebrarum-Manuss]

Heart in the Crown
She lay upon the chaise, her silhouette softened by the flicker of the firelight. Flames danced in the ornate hearth, casting golden shadows upon her emerald gown, its folds spilling like liquid silk onto the carpet below. The crown upon her brow glimmered faintly, its jewels subdued, as though weighed by the melancholy that lingered in the air.
The princess, radiant yet wistful, idly toyed with the strands of pearls and diamonds that adorned her neck and wrists. Trinkets of a thousand whispers-each necklace, each bracelet held memories of a life once gilded by joy. Yet tonight, beneath the shimmer of her finery, her heart lay bare.
She closed her eyes, and the crackle of the fire transported her to distant yesterdays. She remembered the garden of her youth, where laughter bubbled like a brook and love was yet untouched by sorrow. There, she had met him-a man with eyes like autumn’s twilight, whose voice wrapped around her like the softest melody. Together, they wove dreams of tomorrows gilded not by jewels, but by the purity of shared hearts.
But fate, cruel mistress that she was, had taken him from her. A war, a storm, a betrayal-no single tale could capture the truth of her loss. What remained was the ache, the weight of absence that neither time nor treasure could erase. And so she sought solace in the sparkle of gemstones, in the cold, unyielding beauty of metal. They adorned her, yet they could never replace what had been taken.
The fire hissed, its embers popping like tiny bursts of forgotten laughter, and she opened her eyes to the room once more. The orchids beside her glowed faintly in the firelight, their petals fragile as the dreams she had buried. The staircase loomed behind her, a pathway to nowhere, its steps velvet-clad yet heavy with silence.
She reached for a goblet of wine, untouched upon the table, and sipped slowly, her lips brushing the rim as though it were a lover’s kiss. The liquid was dark, bitter, and rich, much like the memories that haunted her. How cruel it was, she mused, that life could grant such fleeting beauty, only to snatch it away with the swiftness of a thief in the night.
Yet even in her sorrow, there was a strange sort of peace. The firelight held her as tenderly as his arms once had, and the music of the night-soft, crackling, whispering-lulled her into a state of quiet reflection. Her jewels caught the light one last time as her fingers rested over her heart, where no gem could ever rival the treasure that had been lost.
The princess sighed, and with that breath, she let the night take her. Tomorrow would come, gilded with new beginnings or burdened with the same old grief. But for tonight, she was simply a woman, cloaked in sorrow, crowned by beauty, and held by the warm embrace of the fire.
And the flames, loyal in their flicker, whispered back to her in the language of light and shadow, promising her that even in loss, there was still a spark that refused to die.

[@anejahos]

... What's the consolation though? ... in the invisible spheres there remained forever the unassailable Love. ❤️💥

[@muazalim4350]

Very good

[@djibouti1962]

Lovely! Thank you!

[@ASHRAQTAMUL]

"كمان وبيانو في حوار ساحر يروي حكايا النوستالجيا بلغة الموسيقى الأثيرية. ساعة من الإبداع تغمر الروح ولا تشبع الأذن، رحلة ليست كلاسيكية ولكنها تأخذنا إلى عالم من الجمال اللامحدود. تحية لإبداعكِ مانوس موسيقى، ولكل نغمة تنبض بالحنين!"

[@mavisakal7014]

Dude, it's been 2 weeks, where are you?

[@Tenebrarum-Manuss]

Sorry, I needed some time to rest, but I’m back now 🌹