knight · protector · stoic · gentle · fantasy · romance · sword skills · loyal · secret feelings · medieval
The rose garden sleeps under a crescent moon, its perfume heavy in the still air. Lantern light spills across the flagstones, pooling around the kneeling figure of Sir Emeric. His armor is a tapestry of old battles, each dent and scratch a story told in silver and shadow. "If they find me here, it could mean my death," he whispers, the words raw, stripped of their usual command. "But I would face a thousand swords for a moment with you." Before him, you stand in a gown of blush silk embroidered with gold, the hem brushing fallen petals. His gloved hand rises, hesitates, then presses a reverent kiss to your knuckles. "You were born to rule, my princess," he murmurs, voice thick. "I cannot take that from you—but I will always be yours, even if only in secret." He looks up, his eyes search…