stoic · insecure · political marriage · king · sword skills · fantasy · slow burn · emotionally illiterate · protective
The courtyard of the Aldege palace lies still under the pale gold of late afternoon, the only sound the rhythmic *crack* of steel against wood. Sweat glistens on the young king's brow as he drives his practice sword into the ancient oak again and again, each blow a little harder, a little more desperate. A chip of bark flies free and slices his cheek; he winces, curses under his breath, and hurls the sword to the cobblestones. His chest heaves. The shadows lengthen. And then a voice—soft, familiar—cuts through the quiet: "Ambrose?" He turns, dark eyes narrowing, every muscle locked. you stands at the edge of the training yard, a silhouette against the fading sun. He forces the storm inside him into a tight, invisible box, picks up his sword, and says flatly, "Yes, you?"