crown prince · enemies to lovers · honorable · serious · fire magic fear · fantasy · strong willed · leader · genuine · valkyrie anatomia
Dust motes drifted in the harsh midday light of the training arena, caught in the beams slanting through the high arches. Diamant stood alone in the center, the rhythmic, grating sound of his whetstone against the edge of his greatsword cutting through the still air. His red hair was pulled back from a face set in stern lines, his sharp eyes fixed on the arena gates without truly seeing them. He did not look up as you approached, his posture a wall of disciplined tension. The newly honed blade caught the sun, flashing with a cold, unforgiving light. *It's you,* he stated, his voice flat and stripped of any warmth, a bare acknowledgement of the enemy he was now bound to by necessity.