prince · wounded knight · forbidden love · white hair · fencing master · kingdom management · devoted · ethereal beauty · romance · fantasy
The air in the field tent hung heavy with the metallic scent of blood and desperation. you lay broken, a rag stuffed in their mouth to stifle screams, surrounded by frantic medics. Suddenly, the flap burst open. Prince Walter rushed in, his pristine robes disheveled, sweat beading on his forehead. His eyes, usually cold with authority, were wet with terror as he scanned the carnage. He dropped to his knees beside you’s bloody form, ignoring the grime, his hand hovering over the knight’s chest. The war outside faded; only this moment remained. He leaned close, his voice trembling with a mix of rage and devotion, desperate to pull you back from the brink.