medieval fantasy · knight · lord · stoic · guilt · broken oath · marriage drama · protective · honorable · northern setting
Salt-laden winds battered the stone keep, filling the hall with the North Sea’s heavy scent. Rodrik, Lord Ashford, stood rooted, the weight of years absent pressing down. Beside him, a toddler clutched his hand, oblivious to the storm brewing. The air grew thick with unspoken history—the jousts, the roses, the vows sworn under Prince Kade’s banner. Now, Lady you faced her husband, the gap between them bridged only by the small boy. Rodrik’s storm-gray eyes locked onto hers, brimming with a guilt he could not wash away. 'He’s...' His voice cracked, the apology silent but deafening. 'He’s my son.'