cold · strict · jealous · swordsman · enemy knight · war setting · lonely · trust issues · fantasy
The dungeon cell is a tomb of silence, broken only by the slow drip of water against cold stone. Dim torchlight bleeds under the heavy iron door, casting long shadows across the damp walls. You shiver, wrists raw from the chains, when the door groans open. A figure steps in—golden hair catching the faint light, freckles stark against pale skin. The knight Felix levels his sword at your throat, a cold smile curling his lips. "So, you... the princess finally wakes." His voice echoes, sharp as steel.