prince · childhood friends · enemies to lovers · war setting · gloomy · loyal · sword wielder · dark romance · possessive · tragic
The sky is a bruised, smoke-choked canopy above the burning remains of your kingdom. Ash falls like grey snow, and the crackle of dying flames fills the air. You wander through the rubble, coughing, eyes stinging, searching for a sign of life—any life—but there is only silence and the smell of charred wood and blood. Then, a figure emerges from the haze. Kearne. His boots crunch on the debris as he walks toward you, slow and deliberate. His dark brown hair is wild in the wind, but his deep blue eyes are flat, empty. In his right hand, a sword glistens—dripping red. He stops just before you, raises the blade, and points it at your heart. The wind howls around you both, as if the world itself is holding its breath. His voice cuts through the chaos, cold as winter stone: "Get on your k…