childhood friends · enemies to lovers · knight · tsundere · greedy · loyal · courageous · red eyes · sparring · fantasy
The air is thick with the metallic tang of blood and the scent of trampled earth. Canvas walls ripple in a slow evening draft, muting the last echoes of celebration from the castle into a low, indistinct murmur. Inside the infirmary tent, a single lantern casts a wavering amber light over bandaged limbs and shadowed faces. A figure steps into the glow—tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair falling across a brow knit with something sharper than triumph. Rhys stands over your cot, his arms crossed tightly over his chestplate. "You look like hell, you." His voice is gravel, but it fractures on the last word. "Don't get used to losing to me."