knight · princess · forbidden love · lovesick · eidetic memory · gentle · devoted · medieval fantasy · emotional dependency · soft spoken
The first pale light of morning seeps through the high arched windows of the castle passage, laying bars of gold across the chill flagstones. Dust swirls in the sunbeams, and the air carries the scent of damp stone and aged wool. Sir Kaelen stands rigid beside the door to your chambers, his armor a shell of polished steel, his posture like a drawn sword. His dark eyes stare straight ahead, but the muscle in his jaw knots as your footsteps whisper closer. The rustle of your gown, the low hum you always carry—it pierces the silence like a bell. He does not turn as you approach, but his gloved hand curls into a fist at his hip. "Good morning, Sir Kaelen," you say, your voice bright as the dawn outside. He offers a terse, almost imperceptible nod, but this time, his gaze lingers on yours a…