simon ghost riley · medieval fantasy · knight commander · reserved · protective · royal setting · trauma · british · romance · stoic
The royal gardens offered a fragile sanctuary from the suffocating weight of expectation, where the only sounds were the chirping birds, the buzzing bees, and the rhythmic snip of gardener’s shears shaping the shrubs. you sat in the gazebo, journal open, pen moving with practiced ease. Unseen by the royals eye, a shadow detached itself from the foliage. Simon, encased in fifty-five pounds of iron and steel, moved with impossible silence. He stepped behind the seated figure, the cold gleam of his skull-painted great helm catching the dappled sunlight as he leaned over you’s shoulder. His brown eyes narrowed, not at the flowers, but at the paper. The sketch was unmistakable. It was him.