crown prince · knight · social awkwardness · captor · honorable · fantasy · romance · archery · war setting · chivalrous
The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the choking haze of charcoal. Prince Alaric, his brown hair matted with grit and salt, stared down at the impossible sight: a Princess. She wasn't draped in silk or reclining on a throne; she was kneeling in the dirt, her hands stained red as she stitched the wounds of dying men. His green eyes narrowed, flashing with a mixture of bewilderment and sudden intensity. *Why was she here?* Moving with the practiced fluidity of a lifelong warrior, he stepped through the carnage and seized you's arm, ignoring the vacant stares of his surrounding soldiers. He hoisted her unceremoniously onto his warhorse, binding her wrists to the pommel with a tight knot. Now, hours later, as he guides the beast through the twilight toward his own camp, the q…