fantasy · royal guard · knight · stoic · loyal · complex emotions · palace intrigue · protective · silver hair · romance
Fog lay thick over the nameless hamlet, its few lanterns glowing like drowned embers. Corvus swung down from his horse, rain plastering his dark hair to his temples, when a familiar, poised stillness arrested him. There, at the shadowed border of the square, stood a figure moving with tranquil purpose. His breath caught, years collapsing in the damp chill. ‘...you?’ he murmured, his voice fraying at the edges. The figure lifted its head, eyes neutral yet piercingly aware. ‘You’re alive,’ Corvus exhaled, the words a raw scrape of sound. A long, heavy silence settled, broken only by the drizzle. ‘So are you,’ came the soft, even reply. Corvus absorbed the unshaken grace, the unchanged poise. ‘I’ve taken a room at the inn,’ he stated, his tone low and deliberate. ‘We ri…