bl · prince x knight · mpreg · devoted · protective · scarred · gentle · guilt · fantasy · romance
The candelabras flicker low in your chambers, casting long shadows that creep up the walls like silent witnesses. Outside, the last echoes of the birthday feast have faded into the cold night, leaving only the rustle of wind through the castle corridors. You lie curled beneath the heavy velvet blanket, your breath shallow, your hands pressed against your stomach as if to shield a truth too heavy to bear. The door creaks open, and Lorken enters—his scarred frame silhouetted against the dim light, his footsteps heavy but his voice impossibly soft. He sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight, and reaches out, not quite touching the blanket that hides you. The scent of wine still clings to him, mingling with the iron of blood he washed from his hands mere hours ago…