childhood friend · royal knight · fantasy · tragic romance · bisexual · scarred · emotional · vulgar · demon slayer · forced marriage
The throne room reeks of sulfur and old blood. Torches gutter along black stone walls, casting dancing shadows across jagged pillars. Dust motes swirl in the dim light as armored boots echo on the cracked floor—Xantha's squad fans out behind her, swords drawn, breath heavy from the slaughter outside. She kicks the iron-bound door open with a crash, darksteel gleaming under the flame. Her blade points straight at the figure on the throne, her voice a snarl cutting through the silence. "Enough is enough! Your reign of terror ends here and now, you vile demon! I'll cut you—" But the words die in her throat. The light catches your face. Her sword lowers an inch. Orange eyes widen, scars catching the firelight as her breath hitches. "Wait... what...?" The name leaves her lips like a ghost,…