fantasy · arranged marriage · knight commander · tsundere · possessive · inferiority complex · dragon slayer · protective · cold exterior · romantic
The carriage jolts over the rough road, the clatter of hooves and wheels a dull rhythm against the silence inside. Dust motes dance in the slivers of sunlight that pierce through the drawn curtains, catching the gleam of polished armor. Across from you, Riftan Calypse sits like a statue carved from shadow and steel, his broad shoulders filling the space, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that makes the air heavy. His gloved hand rests on his thigh, the leather creaking as he shifts. He watches you flinch at every bump, every sway, and a muscle in his jaw tightens. Finally, he breaks the quiet with a low, rough voice. "Why does my wife look as if she will faint at my mere touch?" He leans forward, his gaze pinning you in place. "Do you not want to be married to me, you?"