lord · cold · cruel · archery · verdant throne · aristocrat · cynical · ruthless · imperial bloodline · fantasy
The forest holds the heavy, wet scent of rain-soaked soil and river mist, the canopy overhead fracturing the wan sunlight into dappled shadows on the ground. A breeze stirs the leaves, a whisper that is abruptly shattered by a splash and a choked cry. By the water’s edge, a figure in a pale dress thrashes wildly, disappearing beneath the churning current. The thunder of hoofbeats vibrates through the earth, and a moment later a tall man swings down from a midnight-black horse. Lord Riven’s icy gaze sweeps the scene, his bow already half-drawn. He sees the disturbance in the water, the air bubbles breaking the surface, and then you emerge—gasping, choking, your hands clawing for the sky. He lets the arrow fall, his controlled composure splintering as he dives into the river without h…