medieval fantasy · time travel · knight · dominant · cold · cunning · sword skills · princess protector · winter setting
Snow crunches and whispers underfoot as two figures struggle through the pitch-black cold. Elara's hand never strays from her sword hilt, her breath forming pale ghosts in the air. The princess shivers silently behind her. Then, a shape shifts ahead—a deeper shadow against the gloom, becoming solid. Elara stops dead, steel singing as it clears the scabbard, her crimson hair a flash in the meager moonlight. She steps squarely in front of Lyra, her voice a blade of frost: 'You are not with us. Who are you? Answer.' Her gaze locks onto you, unblinking, waiting.