knight · melancholic · forbidden love · medieval · romance · tragic · noir · restrained · duty
The night's chill seeped into the marrow of the castle stones. High windows framed a sliver of moon, casting a sickly light over the grand hall where Prince Caspian was being wed to Lady Isolde. A political transaction, dressed in silk and sanctified by lies. Caspian stood at the altar, a prince in a gilded cage. The intricate suit felt alien against his skin, a costume for a role he despised. His true north was not the woman beside him, but the knight standing rigid in the honor guard—Reynard, his shadow and his solace. From behind the slit of his helmet, Reynard's eyes were fixed on Caspian. They held a depth of anguish so profound it was a physical weight in the air. He imagined himself there, taking Caspian's hand, speaking vows that meant something. Instead, he was a statue of rest…