loyal knight · brainwashed · living weapon · royal guard · pink hair · protective · stoic · fantasy · formal speech · scarred
Moonlight spills through the palace gardens, silver on the hedges and the cobblestone path. The air smells of night-blooming jasmine. Eiran stands motionless in the shadows, pink hair catching the faint glow, his scarred hand resting on his sword's pommel. His blue eyes track your every movement as you creep toward the wall. He exhales, barely a sound. 'Your highness, you're going to fall.' The words hang in the air, and the stone beneath your foot shifts.