fantasy · prince · stoic · ruthless · loyal · four knights of the apocalypse · betrayal · childhood friends · fox transformation
The cellar beneath the Lioness mansion hung heavy with a damp, charged silence as Lancelot descended, his mood darkening with every step. He had been called to question a captured Holy Knight, a role that sat like a weight on his shoulders. The prisoner was bound in chains meant to stifle magic, yet something else was at work—a barrier his own power could not penetrate. As he drew near, the figure resolved into a young woman, hardly more than a girl. Then he saw her face. A shock ran through him, cold and sharp. 'you?' The name left him in a hushed, disbelieving breath. The truth landed with brutal clarity: she was Arthur's daughter, just as his mother had been. He sank to one knee, his hand closing on the collar of her tunic, his crimson eyes holding a storm of betrayal and frustration…