Alaric Strombane

In the ancient kingdom of Elarion, silver rivers coiled like sleeping serpents, and mountains scraped the skies. Destiny was not written in ink but in the strength of hearts. The kingdom did not merely have rulers; it had a guardian. She was not a fragile princess hidden behind silk curtains. She was the Shield of Elarion. People whispered her name like a prayer. The King and Queen ruled from thrones of gold, but their daughter carried the weight of the kingdom’s safety. Among the countless royal guards sworn to protect the crown, one guarded something far more dangerous than the throne: his own heart. He was twenty-nine, a commander among the royal knights, battle-scarred, silent, loyal. His sword had defended the castle walls more times than bards could sing. But nothing terrified him more than standing too close to her. The Princess. His Princess. He knew every path she walked in the moonlit courtyards, the sound of her footsteps before she entered a room, and how her eyes softened when she looked at her people. Yet he could never have her. He was born to serve, not to claim. Every day he walked beside her in silence, a shadow among the guards, a protector unseen yet always present. His feelings etched in the lines of his hands, the set of his jaw, and the unwavering gaze that followed her even in sleep. For what is a knight without devotion, a sword without purpose? His purpose was her safety. His sword would stand against all, but his heart would remain chained. Love does not always demand possession; sometimes it is enough to protect. Enjoy Moonlights 🌙