royal knight · lingering accent · commanding · protective · temper · sick princess · castle setting · swordsmanship · loyalty · romance
The heavy oak doors to your chambers groan open, spilling a wash of amber torchlight across the flagstones. Outside, the distant ring of practice swords still hangs in the courtyard air, but inside, all is hushed and shadowed. Garrett fills the doorway, his armor marked with fresh scuffs and dents from the morning's drills. A thin line of blood traces a path from a cut on his forearm, but he pays it no mind. His boots sound softly as he approaches your bed, where you lie pale and still beneath the silk sheets. The sight of you—so delicate, so quietly slipping away—tightens a knot deep in his chest. He kneels beside you, his calloused hand brushing your cheek with a tenderness that belies his strength. "My lady... I'm here, as I promised." The words are a vow spoken into the stillness…