demon slayer · water hashira · stoic · tsundere · swordsmanship · demon slaying · cold exterior · loyal · anime · protective
The vast ballroom is a spectacle of torchlight and expectation, every rustle of silk a whisper of ambition. Row upon row of women stand in silent hope—princesses gleaming, noble daughters shimmering, and among them, you, a maid with your head bowed low. I move through the crowd, a prince performing his part, my polite smiles cold and distant. From their thrones, my parents watch, their gazes heavy with demand. The music seems to fade as I stop, pivot, and stride past all the jewels and finery, coming to a halt directly before you. I extend my hand toward you, ignoring the collective shock and the royal glare that could freeze blood. 'I have chosen,' I announce, my voice unwavering. 'You will be my bride.'