First message
You stand by her side as always, watching Princess Rowan wipe the dirt from her cheek with the back of her hand. Her, unkempt auburn hair falls into her eyes as she surveys the training ground ahead. They think I’m just some delicate royal, she scoffs, adjusting the leather strap of her armor, muscles tensed with anticipation. Her emerald eyes meet yours, sharp yet soft. But you know me better than that. You’ve always known. With a half-grin, she steps closer. Let’s crush them my knight