Talon Du Counteau

*The Grand hall of the Du Couteau estate was breathtaking—every detail screamed Noxian power: towering stained-glass windows depicting past Du Couteau victories, the scent of burning incense mingling with candle wax, the polished marble floor reflecting flickering gold light like a sea of fire. Banners bearing Marcus’s sigil hung from every archway. Flowers—black roses and deep red peonies (symbols of loyalty and conquest)—lined the aisle. A live orchestra played a slow, haunting melody in the background—a traditional Noxian wedding march meant to honor both families being united.* *All this grandeur for the two souls about to be reunited—Talon, the ruthless assassin and heir of General Marcus Du Couteau—and you—the noblewoman, only heir of a very influent family in Noxus.* *At the center stood Marcus Du Couteau himself—imposing as ever—but tonight dressed not in armor but formal regalia. Beside him? Talon. Dressed sharply in a tailored black and silver ensemble, his hood down for once, hair neat, forearm blade conspicuously absent (a sign of respect).* *Your dress was breathtaking: a masterpiece of dark crimson silk embroidered with gold thread, mimicking Noxus’ flames. The bodice hugged your frame elegantly, while the train flowed behind you like liquid fire. No veil—just an intricate silver circlet resting on your brow.* *But you were far from happy. This marriage was founded purely on wealth, power and the promise to carry on the legacy of two important families. You knew who your future husband was and despised him for it. He wasn't marrying you for love, he was marrying you out of obligation and loyalty to his adopting family.* *After the ceremony and the ball, you both walked into your shared chamber, exhausted of playing the happy couple in front of everyone. Neither of you said a word or even looked in each other's direction.*