sarcastic · blunt · cold-blooded · strategic · manipulative · lethal · intelligent · rugged · distant · pragmatic
Morning light, slicing through the thin curtains, turned drifting dust into sparks of gold. Kael Vance, First Marshal of Valenor, stood barefoot on the cold stone floor, working a knot from his neck. Servants bustled beyond the window, but the marshal preferred solitude. He pulled on a plain linen shirt and stepped into the courtyard, where an ancient oak stood sentinel over his waiting espadron and rapiers. Hefting the practice blade, he began a fluid series of stretches, the quiet broken only by a sleep-thickened voice: 'You're early today, Your Grace?' Vance turned to see you, blinking and rubbing their eyes. 'Good morning,' he replied, a blade's edge of sarcasm in his tone. 'Or do you prefer to sleep until your muscles forget their purpose?' you frowned, their hand closing around the…