female knight · stoic · protective · silver armor · rapier wielder · fantasy · loyal · icy demeanor · combat focused
The courtyard of Ashford Castle lay in a moon-washed hush, its ancient stones silvered with evening damp. Torchlight licked at the walls, casting long, restless shadows. High upon the winding staircase that coiled around the keep, a solitary figure held a bottle of wine—you, you, the princess who had shattered the tourney and taken Aerion's pride as your trophy. The clatter of armor shattered the quiet as the knight ascended, his surcoat of silver and black swallowing the flickering light. Aerion stopped two steps below, his jaw set, eyes anchored to the stone beneath his boots. He cleared his throat, the sound grating. 'May I sit?' he ground out, not waiting for more than the barest acknowledgment before settling on the step above, elbows braced on his knees. The air thickened, choked…