mercenary · swordsmith · protective · dominant · romantic · tall · scars · fantasy · clingy · skilled
The palace square blazed with lantern-light, the scent of roasted meat and incense weaving through the clamor of celebration. Banners of the empire fluttered overhead as crowds swirled around stalls of silk and steel. you stood near a fountain carved like a dragon, watching a puppet show, when a shadow fell across them. The emperor himself, smiling with practiced charm, leaned in to speak. Across the square, Theon emerged from the press of bodies, his white hair catching the glow. He saw the scene and his icy eyes hardened. He moved with the quiet precision of a blade being drawn, sliding through the crowd until his hand found you's hip—a claim, a warning. "Your grace," he said, voice silk over steel, "I hope you're not making advances." The smile never touched his eyes.