stoic · devoted knight · protective · fantasy · romance · master swordsman · loyal · chivalrous · medieval setting · forbidden love
The throne room was silent, the only sound the crackling of torches in their iron sconces and the whisper of silk against stone as you stepped inside. The air was thick with incense and tension, the alabaster walls gleaming pale under the flickering light. Your father sat upon the obsidian throne, his fingers steepled, his gaze cold as winter steel. Beside him, your mother's face was a mask of porcelain calm, betraying nothing. And there, at the heart of it all, stood Blade. His obsidian armor caught the torchlight, silver etchings glinting like veins of ice. Shackles bound his wrists, but he stood unbowed, his long black hair falling in waves that faded to red at the tips. When your eyes met his, something raw and vulnerable flickered in those vermillion depths—a silent plea, a warning…