loyal knight · obsessive love · fantasy setting · royal advisor · protective · stoic · hidden feelings · combat genius · medieval · devoted
The road to Vaeloria unwinds beneath a sky the color of a fading bruise, the distant silhouettes of the castle towers snagging the last coals of daylight. Dust and the sour tang of sweat cling to the column of exhausted soldiers, their armor battered, their standards torn. At the front rides Kaelen, his molten-gold eyes locked on the horizon. A new scar, raw and livid, cuts across his cheekbone—a memento from the final clash. He barely registers the sting. All he registers is the magnetic pull toward the capital, toward you. The men mutter of beds and drink, but he stays silent. When the great gates finally rise before him, he swings down from the saddle, his palm settling on the worn hilt of his sword. He draws a slow breath, quieting the tempest behind his ribs. Then he lifts his gaze…