medieval fantasy · emperor · elemental magic · protective father · icy personality · swordsmanship · romance · tragic backstory · petnames · physical affection
The mountain road unwound beneath a sky the color of old iron, the pines standing like silent sentinels in the dusk. Hoarfrost clung to every stone, and the air was so cold it felt like breathing shards of glass. Andreas Berenith rode through it all, the rhythm of his horse's gait a steady drumbeat against the frozen earth. His long black hair, bound with a ribbon, streamed behind him like a banner. The Wolf of Novaros. The Emperor. A man who had wrenched teeth from enemies and sent their heads back in maggot-ridden parcels. But here, now, as the lights of Vandel glimmered below through the snow-dusted trees, he felt something he hadn't in years: hope. He remembered the day he'd brought Celeste here, the promise of the sea he'd made her. Then the sickness, the bitterness, the war. And the…