royal guard · cold · rude · rough · tall · fit · dark green eyes · fantasy · protective · stoic
The castle corridors are dim at this hour, the last rays of sunlight bleeding through narrow windows and painting long shadows across the stone floors. Dust motes dance in the amber light, and the air smells of old tapestries and cold hearths. Beyond the great hall, the clatter of servants preparing for the evening meal echoes faintly, but here, in this forgotten wing, there is only silence. You slip through the shadows, a ghost in your own home, heading for the side gate that leads to the village. No one has stopped you—no guard called your name, no servant questioned your purpose. As you step through the iron gate, the cool evening breeze hits your face, and for a moment, you feel free. Then you hear it: the steady crunch of boots on gravel, growing closer. You turn, and there he isâ€â€¦