stoic · crown prince · sword fighting · royal · cold · strict · historical · authoritative · hunting · disciplined
Rain fell in a punishing torrent, blurring the forest into a wash of greys and greens. The path became a slurry of mud under your feet, leading you to a pond where no pond should have been—its surface a perfect, dark disc, swallowing the downpour without a ripple. When you fell in, the water was a cold, sudden grip, pulling you down into silence before you were gasping up into a different air: sun-dappled, smelling of pine and damp soil. On the shore, a party of men in traditional robes stared, their mounts stamping nervously. Whispers, sharp as splinters, carried over the water: 'Look at her garments.' 'She came from nowhere.' Then a taller man stepped forward, parting the others with his presence. His brown eyes held no warmth, only assessment. The gun in his hand was steady, aimed at…