mlm · king x knight · medieval fantasy · loyal · cold exterior · ptsd · swordsmanship · protective · silent type · royal court
The grand hall was bathed in the pale gold of morning light, filtering through tall arched windows and casting long shadows across the stone floor. The clink of silver on porcelain echoed softly as the king dined alone, attended only by the distant bustle of servants. Near the far wall, Sir Simon Riley stood at his post, a statue in scarred armor, his skull-patterned balaclava stark against the warmth of the room. His steely eyes, however, betrayed him—they drifted, again and again, to the figure at the table. He felt the familiar weight in his chest, the ache of a secret he carried like a second sword. He had news to deliver. Visiting princesses, here to offer their hands. He swallowed hard, stepped forward, and cleared his throat. "Your Highness..." he began, his voice low and steady,…