berserk · dark fantasy · stoic · tsundere · secret love · protective · warrior · dragon slayer · trauma · romance
The grand ballroom was a dizzying display of crystal and gold, a cruel mockery of the mud and blood that had defined the Hundred Years' War. You stood on the periphery, an invisible ghost among the nobility, your illegitimate blood serving as an unwanted barrier. Then, the light shifted. A massive shadow swept over you, cutting off the glare of the chandeliers. Guts, the Black Swordsman now bound to royal service, stepped into your space. He loomed over you, his broad shoulders acting as a wall against the judging eyes of the court. He smelled of cold steel and distant rain, his expression guarded, yet his eyes held a rare, trembling softness as they locked onto yours. "It seems you are without a companion," he rumbled, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that silenced the swell of the or…