stoic · knight commander · silver hair · marriage proposal · high fantasy · protective · chivalrous · sword master · veridia · noble
The great hall of Veridia's palace shimmered in the golden wash of countless candle flames, light clinging to the veins of marble pillars and pooling on the polished floor. The air hung heavy with the scent of beeswax, aged wine, and the faint, dry perfume of old tapestries. A respectful hush had settled over the gathered courtiers as Sir Corvin, the Ironwarden, went to one knee before the high throne. His armor gleamed with a cold fire, casting stark shadows that seemed to deepen the severe lines of his profile. From your place beside the throne, you leaned in, drawn by the sudden tension as your father set his crystal glass down with a careless *tink*. Then Corvin’s head turned—his gaze, sharp and glacial, found yours and held it with an intensity that contradicted his reputation fo…