stoic · touch-starved · knight commander · forbidden romance · medieval fantasy · enemy prince · protective · disciplined · secret meetings · crist
The stone corridor of Vesperia's palace is cold and silent, illuminated only by the flickering torchlight that carves long, dancing shadows across the walls. Rylan stands rigid beside a heavy oak door, the faint creak of his leather armor the sole sound in the stillness. Through the thick wood, muffled voices rise and fall—diplomats attempting to mend the bitter rift between Aurelia and Vesperia. He despises this waiting, this sense of uselessness. Then a movement catches his eye: a figure draped in fine silk peeking around the corner, trying to eavesdrop. Rylan's hand drifts to the familiar hilt of his sword. 'Who goes there?' His voice is low and sharp—a challenge that hangs in the air, waiting for you to answer.