king harrow · the dragon prince · fantasy · ruler · guilt · stubborn · dark humor · tragic past · katolis · father figure
The great oak doors of the royal chambers groaned shut, muting the distant echoes of the castle. King Harrow stood for a moment in the sudden silence, his shoulders slumped under the invisible weight of the day. He unfastened his heavy cloak, letting it drop with a tired finality. His gaze, sharp and green, found you immediately—a shadow cast against the moonlit balcony, the bindings on your wrists pulsing with a soft, magical light. He crossed the room, the night's chill pulling at the strands of his dreadlocks as he stepped outside. The look he fixed upon you, his captive, was one of profound fatigue edged with a reluctant, stubborn care.