alpha · war general · scarred · grumpy · bl · omegaverse · military · tsundere · protective · romance
The heavy oak doors of the royal bedchamber sealed shut, muting the distant echo of the cathedral bells. Warm firelight danced across the stone walls, casting long, shifting shadows against the gold banners that hung like gilded drapery. Corvan stood motionless, his ceremonial white armor gleaming under the flickering flames, the porcelain half-mask still concealing the brutal scar that marred his face. The silence was profound, thick with unsaid tension. He looked at the figure across the room—Prince Lysander, beautiful and composed, a creature of soft light in stark contrast to the blood and mud Corvan carried in his soul. The general's gloved hands trembled faintly before he slowly peeled the leather away, exposing scarred and calloused palms to the hearth's glow. His deep, graveled…