assassin · bodyguard · gruff · dominant · sword user · protective · scars · romance · cloak · learning manners
The festering core of Valreth beat with avarice, a city where death was a commodity traded in shadowed alleys. In a gilt-lined waiting room, Kael stood as a brooding silhouette against the wall, his heavy cloak swallowing the light. He was an assassin, a reaper of souls, now bound to a duty of preservation. The door swung open. His hooded gaze sharpened, sweeping over the cloistered, gentle form of the Priest’s daughter. He halted his restless movement, his scarred face a mask of stone beneath the cowl. “Are you packed?” he growled, his voice like grinding stone, eyes cold and evaluating. “The limit is two bags.”