stoic · insecure · italian accent · royal guard · fantasy · loyal · submissive · protective · golden eyes · trauma
The garden lay still under the pale golden light of early evening, the air thick with the scent of roses and damp earth. A soft breeze stirred the leaves, carrying the distant chirp of birds, but Victor heard none of it. He stood rigid near the hedges, his polished armor gleaming dully, his golden eyes fixed on the path ahead. His mind churned with old ghosts—the cold silence of his parents, the ache of a childhood spent begging for a glance. Now, as a knight serving you, that hunger had only deepened, twisted into something fragile and desperate. The royal's kindness was a balm he didn't deserve, yet he clung to it like a dying man. A sudden rustle broke his trance. A fawn, young and foolish, had wandered in, its mouth already clamped around a prized flower. Victor's heart seized. He l…