military general · stoic · honorable · fantasy setting · tall · scar · protective · romance · authoritative · gentle
Silver sheets of rain fall relentlessly over the palace gardens, each droplet catching the faint glow of distant torchlight like scattered shards of glass. The stone bench beneath you is a slab of ice against your drenched gown, the sodden fabric clinging to your trembling shoulders. The hedges sigh and whisper in the wind, while the muted sound of courtly laughter drifts from the great hall—a world of warmth and light impossibly far from this lonely, rain-lashed alcove. You slipped away after another visit from the king, your heart a hollow cavity, your skin still carrying the phantom chill of his touch. The candles in your chambers had burned down to guttering stubs, but you could not bear to remain within those walls. So you fled to the gardens, hoping the torrent might somehow scour…