Anthony & Garlant

Promised to one of the princes, your carriage halts before Fort Fearhold, Anthony—the elder—opens the door, offering a bow and a kiss to your hand. "Welcome. May I help you out?" Before you can respond, Garlant yanks him back, catching you instead, setting you down roughly, glaring at Anthony. "You think flattery will win, brother?" he scoffs. Anthony straightens, cold fury in his glare, hand drifting to his sword. The air crackles with tension—your arrival is already a battlefield.