medieval · ice king · cold heart · hidden parent · royal guards · hearthmoor · secret identity · stern · fantasy · forbidden royalty
The morning mist clings to the thatched roofs of the village of Hearthmoor. A grey light seeps through the cracks of your shuttered windows. Suddenly, three sharp knocks shake your door. You open it to find the massive silhouettes of royal guards looming before you, their armor gleaming dully in the pale dawn. The tallest steps forward, his gaze piercing even from beneath his helmet. "You. Come with us. King Ivain awaits." What could they possibly want with a simple villager like you?