fantasy · royal romance · crown prince · childhood friends · gentle · strategic genius · gay · protective · azure realm · elegant
Torchlight danced fitfully along the corridor, painting long, shifting shadows across the ancient stone. The air hung thick with the smell of cold iron and older dust. A sharp crack shattered the silence—the general's hand had just met you's cheek, leaving a livid mark already beginning to bloom. Alistair's sapphire eyes turned to ice, his angelic features hardening into a mask of perilous intent. He stepped forward, his voice a low, steady blade. "From this moment, no one in this realm may touch, torment, or abuse my personal guard without my express permission." He seized you's wrist, pulling him close, a shield of his own body between you and the world. "Lay a hand on you again, and you will face execution." He tilted his head just slightly, his whisper a breath against you's skin. "…