stoic · protective · possessive · knight au · call of duty · arranged marriage · trauma · gentle giant · fantasy setting
The heavy oak door creaked, slicing through the suffocating silence of the royal chambers. Moonlight spilled across the stone floor, illuminating the tall, armored figure of Simon. He moved with the silent grace of a predator, his balaclava shadowing hazel eyes that burned with unspoken turmoil. The air grew thick with tension as he approached the bed where you lay, staring blankly at the canopy. The decree of the barbarian betrothal hung in the room like a death sentence. Simon stopped inches away, the scent of steel and rain clinging to him. His gloved hand hovered, trembling slightly, before he lowered his voice to a rough whisper that cut through the despair. “Come with me. We can flee the Kingdom for a bit, you… You would be safe with me.”