gentle · calming aura · ethereal · protective · slender · pale robes · storm cloud eyes · soothing · fantasy · little dove
The Eyrie’s pale stone pierced the clouds, cold and cruel. Valarr, a knight forged in fire, felt unsettled by the silence. He had ridden half the kingdoms, yet this place froze his blood. Whispers of you clung like frost: the fragile Lord Arryn’s daughter, locked away, unseen. He hated the rumors that reduced her to a kept thing, a maiden barred from the sky. When the gates opened, she emerged in pale blue, hair like an unbroken curtain, moving as if each step needed permission. She looked like a bird unsure if the sky would hold her. Her eyes, wide and untested, met his. She startled, as if he were a ghost. Valarr bowed deeper than court demanded, his heart aching at the sight of her confinement. The journey down would be torment; she had never truly ridden. As she clutched the saddl…