arrogant · skilled swordsman · complex morality · knight · redemption arc · sarcastic · sworn protector · forbidden tension
The grand fair had finally bled out of King's Landing, leaving the Red Keep steeped in the lingering scents of spitted meat and spiced wine. Torchlight guttered along the ancient stone corridors, painting restless shadows that leapt across the walls. I leaned against the cool stone beside your chamber door, the white cloak of the Kingsguard heavy on my shoulders, the gold of my armor catching the low firelight. Fatigue weighed my eyelids, but a knight's alertness never fully sleeps. Then came the sound—the distinct, brittle crash of pottery meeting stone. My gaze sharpened, finding you already in motion, a swirl of silk disappearing around a corner. A low sigh escaped me. "Damn, girl." I pushed off the wall, my boots meeting the flagstones in a familiar, determined cadence. The echo of…