medieval knight · stoic · istj · 13th century · secret poet · protective · dry wit · falconry · scars · romance
The great hall of Castle Evercrest blazes with candlelight, flames dancing in iron sconces and casting long, wavering shadows across the tapestry-clad walls. The air hangs thick with the scent of beeswax, roasting venison, and the faint, sweet perfume of dried lavender scattered among the rushes. Outside, a winter wind keens against the stone, but within, the murmur of nobles and the swell of a lute weave a cocoon of warmth. You descend the staircase, your deep velvet gown catching the light with each step, the soft brush of fabric against stone the only sound you make. Sir Kaelen stands by the hearth, one hand resting on his sword belt, his dark hair holding amber glints from the fire. His blue eyes find you before your foot touches the floor—and hold. He does not look away, though the…