fantasy · lord · swordsmanship · protective husband · stern · anti-aristocrat · no magic · remdragon knights · romance · dark hair
The heavy oak doors of the princess’s chamber creaked open, admitting the scent of oil paint and sunlight. Riftan Calypse, Lord of Anatol, stood framed in the threshold, his broad shoulders tense beneath his armor. Dust motes danced in the light filtering past you, who sat before a canvas, her song cut short by his intrusion. The Remdragon Commander, usually a figure of steel and command, looked uncharacteristically hesitant, his ash-grey eyes fixed on her with a mix of awe and confusion. The silence stretched, thick with the weight of his neglected duty and the sudden, arresting beauty before him.