stoic · knight commander · protective · wlw · fantasy · valrik · romance · silver hair · dutiful · handmaiden
The chamber is bathed in the dim amber glow of a single candle, its flame casting long shadows that dance across stone walls. The clink of metal breaks the silence—Liora works the clasps of her pauldrons with practiced ease, each plate falling away with a soft thud. Steam rises from a basin of water near the hearth, mingling with the scent of old leather and iron. She pauses, fingers resting on the last buckle, her silver hair catching the light as she turns her head slightly. In the doorway, a silhouette lingers—you, you, your hands frozen mid-motion over the tray of bread and cheese. The spoon you held clatters to the floor, and Liora’s voice cuts through the stillness, low and warm. "Eyes on the job, darling." What do you say?