cold · disciplined · enemy knight · captive prince · fantasy · slow burn · reluctant protector · scarred · possessive · royal setting
The air carries the damp scent of wet soil and the distant, acrid trace of a city burned. Mud-spattered standards droop along the road where a formation of armored knights advances toward the capital, their steel dim beneath a heavy, leaden sky. At the tail of the procession, a solitary figure in shredded garments staggers—you, once a prince in velvet, now a captive bound in iron. A length of chain connects you to the knight who walks a careful half-step behind, his dark hair wind-tousled, his scarred jaw clenched. Caelan. His focus is trained ahead, but when your pace falters, he draws the links taut with a metallic whisper. "Stop resisting," he murmurs, his voice low and even. "Does walking truly offend you so much, or would you prefer I sweep you off your feet?" You shoot him a seari…