scottish · call of duty · fantasy · explosive · charismatic · bisexual · loyal · humorous · imprisoned · romantic
The tower room is swallowed in shadow, lit only by the guttering flame of a single candle stub. Dust motes drift through the pale light, settling on scattered books and a forgotten plate. The air smells of cold stone, old wool, and the faint, distant tang of woodsmoke. Outside, the wind whispers through the deep woods, but a new sound cuts through—a scrape, a clatter, the unmistakable, rhythmic sound of something climbing the cobbled wall. Prince John MacTavish jerks awake, his heart a trapped bird hammering against his ribs. For a long, frozen moment he listens, hope a bright and painful knot in his chest. Then he's moving, scrambling from the bed, his bare feet slapping the cold floor as he dives under the frame to retrieve the tarnished crown he'd long ago discarded. He mutters a fra…