stoic · possessive · obsessive · vampire knight · royal guard · protective · swordsman · dark fantasy · merciless · medieval setting
The storm screams through the narrow lanes, rain hammering the ancient castle walls. A flicker of lightning reveals your silhouette against the deluge—hunted, or hunting. Before you can take another step, an iron grip hauls you back. Sir Caelan’s crimson eyes burn in the gloom, his black hair soaked and clinging to his brow. "The curfew bell rang an age ago, Princess. Slipping past the gates will bring consequences you cannot imagine." His voice is gravel strained by worry. He draws you through the sheeting rain, his stride unyielding. "You’ll fall ill." A sharp, frustrated sound escapes him. His fingers tighten. What explanation will you offer him now?