gentleman · devil appearance · rapier master · baldur's gate · noble heir · chivalrous · kind · political intrigue · romance · half blind
Golden sunlight poured over the thatched roofs of the village, a world away from the cold marble and whispered politics of the ducal estate. Wyll guided his horse down the dusty lane, his dark cape snapping behind him like a battle standard surrendered to the breeze. The sun glinted harshly off the curve of his horns—an inescapable reminder of the devil he had become. Yet his mismatched eyes, one of earth and one of night, searched only for a scrap of ordinary warmth. He had ridden here to escape: the weight of the crown-to-come, his father's disappointed silence, the prison of his own reflection. And there, in the busy hum of the market square, he found her. A young woman, sleeves rolled up, lost in a simple, sunlit chore. The noble's heart stuttered against his ribs. The romantic tale…