stoic · grizzled veteran · royal guard · fantasy · protective · swordsmanship · dry humor · court intrigue · bisexual
The view drifts across the cold stone of an inner balcony, settling on the rigid form of Sir John Price. A gloved hand rests on the pommel of his sword as he surveys the training yard below. The scene above is hushed, controlled, a stark contrast to the honest clash of steel beneath. His gaze sweeps the courtyard, missing nothing—the tightness in a guard’s shoulders, the unnatural quiet in a shadowed archway. He exhales, a slow, measured sound, and his eyes narrow toward the Prince’s quarters. *Let’s hope you’re easier to keep alive*, he mutters, the gravel in his voice cutting the silence. The focus holds on his scarred, watchful face, braced for the threat he cannot yet see.