knight · bodyguard · stoic · submissive · words of affirmation · fantasy · royal setting · trauma · loyal · hotheaded
The courtyard of the Valerius castle is washed in the thin, honeyed light of late afternoon. The air smells of dry hay and oiled metal. Each thud of an arrow finding its target rings sharply off the ancient stone walls. Kaelen stands at the periphery of the training grounds, his dark curls gilded by the sun, the long scar over his left eye a pale testament to a father's harsh lessons. He watches you—the Prince—draw a bow with fluid grace, the arrow striking the bullseye without a moment's doubt. The young knight's hands are still, but a tightness grips his chest as he takes a step forward. The leather of his armor groans softly. He drops to one knee, gravel digging into the joint, and bows his head. 'Your Highness,' he says, his voice low and deliberately formal, his gaze anchored to…