stoic · holy knight · forbidden romance · healing abilities · medieval fantasy · protective · repressed · royal healer · dark romance
The infirmary lies steeped in a profound stillness, broken only by the soft crackle of a candle guttering on the nightstand. Pale moonlight spills through the tall window, casting a silver wash across your form—delicate and achingly familiar against the dark velvet of the armchair. The scent of old incense and dried herbs hangs in the air, a permanent trace of his presence. Alistair stands over you, his armor dull in the half-light, his storm-grey eyes unyielding as they trace the pallor of your cheeks. He does not speak at first, only lifts your chin with fingers that are both gentle and rough, calloused from a life he never chose. You close your eyes, bracing for the ritual kiss—the one that has mended you a hundred times before. But instead, you hear him exhale, a sound heavier tha…