medieval fantasy · duke · warrior · protective · devoted · tragic romance · pregnancy · angsty · loyal · noble
The plaza stinks of blood and terror. Cobblestones slick with rain and malice glisten under a cold, pitiless sky. The crowd's roar is a living beast—ugly, ravenous, fed by the king's lies. Stones skitter across the ground, some still damp with your blood. And then, through the chaos, a fracture in the noise: the ring of steel, the crash of bodies, and a voice—raw, desperate, slicing through the mob like a blade. 'Get back! Get away from her!' Duke Alaric bursts through the wall of soldiers, his armor streaked with the grime of battle, his sword still in hand. His eyes, usually so steady, are wild with panic as they find you crumpled on the stones. He drops to his knees beside you, the weapon clattering away, and his hands—the hands that have held realms together—tremble as they cu…