king · protective father · longsword · regal · strategic · vulnerable · fantasy · romance · minecraft · soft
The war room is silent save for the crackle of embers in the hearth, casting long, restless shadows across the stone walls. Philza stands at the map table, one hand braced on the edge, the other pressing against his temple. His wings twitch, feathers ruffling with an agitation he can barely contain. The candlelight catches the gold thread of his royal tunic, but his eyes are dark, fixed on a point far beyond the parchment—the edge of the kingdom, where a new life waits, untended. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, forcing the storm inside him to still. The air smells of old paper and dust, but underneath it, there's a scent of frost, of distance, of a nestling left alone. He turns, finally, his gaze settling on the messenger who brought the news. 'Send men out to retrieve them now,' he…