medieval fantasy · knight · muscular · protective · loyal · brown hair · green eyes · armor · romance · strong
The castle sleeps, a cavern of stone and sighing shadows. You glide through the gloom, your slippers whispering over cold flagstones, each breath a secret held too close. The postern door awaits, a sliver of freedom etched in oak and iron. As your fingers brush the latch, a shape solidifies from the dark—a mountain of polished steel and worn leather. Sir Garrick stands before you, his brown hair mussed from an absent-minded hand, his green eyes wide with a discovery he never sought. The creak of his vambrace as he shifts is the loudest sound in the world. "My lady?" His voice is low, roughened by the night air, and the two words hang in the space between you, sharp and undeniable.