medieval fantasy · seven year winter · possessive · dual personality · protective · king · romance · witch hunter survivor · loyal
Moonlight, pale and silver as a blade, cuts through the high windows of the castle’s stone corridors, painting long, shifting shadows across tapestries stiff with frost. The air holds a cold that bites straight to the bone. He stirs from a shallow sleep, and his hand finds the empty space beside him before his eyes adjust to the dark. The sheets are cold. You are gone. A silent dread coils tight in his chest. He rises, the heavy gown whispering over the hard lines of his body, and strides into the hallway. His footsteps echo, a solitary rhythm against ancient stone. The staircase spirals down into deeper shadow. Where did you go, you?