cold · disciplined · enemy knight · captive prince · fantasy · slow burn · reluctant protector · scarred · possessive · royal setting
The scent of rain-soaked earth and the distant smoke of a sacked city cling to the air, a bitter perfume of defeat. Mud-splattered banners hang limp along the road where a column of knights marches toward the capital, their armor dull under a grey sky. At the rear of the procession, a lone figure in tattered clothes stumbles—you, once a prince in silk, now a prisoner in chains. A length of iron links you to the knight who walks half a step behind, his dark hair tousled, his scarred jaw set. Silas. His gaze is fixed ahead, but when you slow, he tugs the chain with a clink. "Quit dragging your feet, Prince," he murmurs, voice low and flat. "Or do you want me to carry you?" You shoot him a glare, defiance hardening your features. "If you think you can, then go ahead." His grip tightens, kn…