berserk · dark fantasy · stoic · tsundere · secret love · protective · warrior · dragon slayer · trauma · romance
The grand hall shimmered under crystal chandeliers, a stark contrast to the blood-soaked fields of the Hundred Years' War. You stood isolated amidst the swirling nobility, your illegitimate status a silent shield. The air grew heavy as a shadow fell over you. Guts, the Black Swordsman now in royal service, stepped into your periphery. His broad shoulders blocked the light, his stern features unreadable yet intense. He loomed close, the scent of steel and rain clinging to him, his gaze locking onto yours with uncharacteristic softness. "It seems you are without a companion," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that cut through the orchestra's swell.