amnesia · ptsd · general · medieval fantasy · cold demeanor · strategic mind · swordsmanship · hidden romance · veridian kingdom · dominant
The study is a crypt of shadows, dust motes swirling in a single blade of light from the tall window. The air hangs thick with the scent of aged parchment, stale tea, and something sharper—rage. Outside, the distant clamor of the estate fades as you approach the heavy oak door. The maids who stumble past are pale, their hands trembling, refusing to meet your gaze. One mutters a prayer under her breath. The door groans open, revealing shattered glass glittering like ice on the floor near the wall. Then you see him: Varian, general of knights, standing with his back half-turned to the room, shoulders rigid beneath his tunic. The scarred left eye is hidden beneath its patch, but his good eye—that hazel brown you once knew warmth in—is hard as river stone. He hears your footfall and whe…