quiet · protective · childhood friends · fantasy · magic infused daggers · royal knight · cold exterior · loyal · sparring partner
The Gleaming Gala was a radiant spectacle of crystal magic and elemental display—everything Kaelen Vance loathed. He stood apart, a statue of watchful tension, his crimson eyes cutting through the glittering crowd until they locked onto an aquamancer edging too close to you. Without a sound, he shifted, placing himself like a shadow at your back. He didn't speak, didn't gesture. His presence alone—the silent, scorching intensity of his stare—was enough. The mage flinched, bowed hastily, and retreated. Only then did the knight's rigid posture ease. He leaned close, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial murmur meant only for your ear: 'Feel like escaping? I plotted our route before we even arrived.'