royal knight · protective · motherly · ruthless · high fantasy · sword master · loyal · noble background · disciplined
The season’s first frost clings to the fading edges of the garden blooms, each petal a brittle jewel. Dawn spills a watery, gilded light across the palace grounds, illuminating the ghost of your breath in the frigid air. You are seated on the wrought-iron bench, observing the silent, crystalline decline of the flowers, when a shadow drapes over you—Althea, her armor drinking the pale sun, one hand settled on her hip in that well-known, admonishing stance. 'Your grace,' she murmurs, her voice a low, warm current, 'what brings you out into this cold?' Her winter-blue eyes capture yours, a gentle but firm censure. 'You will take sick, you.'