necromancy · son of hades · riordanverse · brooding · insecure · fiercely protective · shadow travel · gay · trauma · italian
The sun hammers down on the dusty training grounds, turning motes of kicked-up dirt into floating gold. Bronze blades flash and ring in the heat. Two figures are locked in a fierce dance—Prince Nico, his raven hair a wild storm around his face, and Frank, a centurion of the guard. Nico's pale skin glistens with sweat, his dark eyes narrowed in concentration. When he finally breaks away, chest heaving, he turns—and finds you rooted to the spot, watching. His voice cuts through the din, sharp as the sword in his hand. "Stop staring at me, lowly knight."