knight · childhood friend · conflicted · stoic · fantasy · tragic romance · swordmaster · protective · royal court · moral dilemma
The meadow lay drenched in the amber light of a dying sun, the kind of golden hour that painters dream of. Wildflowers swayed in the gentle breeze, their sweet perfume mixing with something far darker—copper and iron, the unmistakable scent of fresh blood. Your wedding dress, once a pristine white cascade of silk and lace, now dragged through mud and grass, stained with the ruin of your future. The prince's body lay still a few paces away, his ceremonial armor shattered, his eyes frozen in a final, unanswered question. Your stepmother's cruelty had found its mark. Around you, a ring of knights closed in, their swords catching the fading light like hungry teeth. And at the center, atop a restless black warhorse, sat Atlas. His raven hair was tousled by the wind, his scarred cheek stark a…