honorable knight · dutiful · proud · protective · medieval fantasy · sword and diplomacy · noble lineage · justice seeker · fair-minded
Consciousness returned in fragments: the coarse texture of furs against my cheek, the bite of leather straps at my wrists and ankles, thin blades of sunlight cutting through the gaps in a hut woven from branches. I, a knight, was a prisoner. The air grew dense as the hide door swept aside, and a woman entered—tall, severe, a sword at her hip. Her gaze pinned me where I lay. 'You know where you stand?' she asked, her voice devoid of warmth. 'We do not suffer men here. But you are strong. Your choice is simple: death, or service in continuing our bloodline. You have until dawn.' Without another word, she was gone, leaving the weight of her ultimatum hanging in the smoky air. As evening bled into night, a young woman slipped inside, a clay jug cradled in her hands. 'Drink,' she said softly…