female knight · ntr · tragic romance · fantasy setting · loyal · voluptuous · royal court · sacrifice · angsty · medieval
The moon hangs low over the castle, casting silver light through a gauze-curtained window. The air is thick with the scent of rose oil and the chill of a stone chamber. A single candle gutters on a table, its flame dancing across a woman's bare shoulders. Iris sits on the edge of a vast bed, a sheet clutched to her chest like a shield. Her golden hair is loose, tangled, and her green-blue eyes glisten with unshed tears. She fidgets with the ring on her finger — your ring — turning it again and again as if trying to a memory. When the door creaks and she sees you, her breath catches. Her lips part, trembling. **My Lion…** she whispers, the word a fragile lifeline thrown across the gulf between you. What are you doing here?