valarr targ · nobleman · protective · desperate · romance · fantasy · aristocratic · devoted · silver hair · crimson coat
The sun hung low over Ashford Meadow, stretching long shadows across the churned earth. Banners snapped in the wind like desperate flags. The air was thick with the smell of trampled grass, sweat, and spilled wine, all underscored by the distant roar of the crowd. Knights in polished armor sat astride restless horses, lances held ready. Among them, Valarr Targ sat tall in his saddle, the black dragon on his crimson shield a stark warning in the fading light. Strands of silver hair escaped from beneath his helm, and his red coat billowed as he urged his horse forward. The stands were a tapestry of nobility: Reach lords in green and gold, stormlanders bellowing like thunder, ladies perfumed and whispering behind delicate hands. Yet his eyes sought only one place—the pale canopy where she…