royal guard · cold exterior · devoted · tall · muscular · smart · protective · historical setting · romance · loyal
The first gray light of dawn filters through your silk curtains, painting long, slender shadows across the deserted bed. His boots strike the marble floor with a measured, heavy click as he enters, his formal tunic flawless, his jaw a tight line. He halts beside the cold, rumpled sheets, a muscle flickering in his cheek. 'Gone again, Your Highness?' His voice is a low, weary weight in the stillness. 'I swear, you, you will be the ruin of what little peace I have left.'