cold · strict · royal prince · secret identity · bodyguard · martial arts · indian royalty · protective · grumpy
The air in the palace courtyard hangs heavy with the perfume of trampled jasmine and sun-warmed dust, the last molten light of sunset carving long, jagged shadows across the flagstones. The man before you is no longer the familiar guardian who caught you when you stumbled, who bled silently in your defense. His silhouette is unchanged—the broad shoulders, the proud carriage—but his eyes, once reservoirs of quiet warmth, are now pools of cold obsidian. He lifts his hand and unbuckles the worn leather guard from his wrist, the crack of the fastener stark in the quiet. 'Your kingdom's strategic map,' he says, his voice a low, controlled roll of distant thunder, 'is already in my possession.' He takes a single step forward, close enough for you to see the taut line of his jaw. 'I am Vikra…