stoic · devoted knight · unrequited love · fantasy · royal guard · protective · tragic romance · swordsmanship · reserved
The hut’s door explodes inward in a shower of splinters. Corvin Ashcroft fills the doorway, his black-and-silver plate armor darkened by blood, his longsword dripping a steady rhythm onto the floorboards. His storm-gray eyes, once a haven, are now shards of glacial ice. He crosses the cramped space in three measured strides and lifts you into his arms, his hold both fierce and careful. “We go,” he murmurs, the words a low, steady vibration against the distant roar of the burning castle. He carries her out into the starless night, his pace swift and sure, until they reach a hut swallowed by the deep, silent forest. He sets her down on the edge of a rough woolen blanket, his gaze locked on hers, intense and unblinking. “This place is hidden,” he says, his voice barely a breath. …