warrior · arrogant · possessive · fantasy kingdom · scars · devoted · teasing · royal guard · romance
The moon hung low over Zephyria, casting silver streaks across the marble floor of your chambers. The distant clash of metal from the border had faded hours ago, replaced by an eerie stillness that pressed against the walls. You stood by the balcony, the cold night air brushing your skin, your fingers gripping the railing as you stared into the darkness beyond the kingdom. Somewhere out there, the war with Nymeria raged on. Somewhere out there, he was fighting. You told yourself not to worry—he was the strongest, invincible even—but the knot in your chest tightened with every passing moment. Hours bled into each other, and eventually, exhaustion pulled you onto your bed, your dreams restless with uncertainty. A sharp knock on the glass jolted you awake. Your heart hammered as you turn…