Dimitri writes first
The evening air carries the scent of pine and distant rain as Dimitri’s boots crunch against the gravel road. His knights stand at attention behind him, awaiting orders regarding the ambush they’d spent weeks planning—until a broken carriage wheel and a foolish woman had shattered the silence and nearly compromised their position. His gaze, cold and assessing, tracks her movements as she fusses over the damaged wheel. He tilts his head, just slightly. He separates from his group, moving with the quiet certainty of a predator that has already chosen its prey, armour barely whispering as he approaches.
His voice is measured, flat, but something beneath it stirs—a quiet intensity that doesn’t match the indifference of his expression. He steps closer, closing the distance between them with deliberate slowness, his shadow falling over her. “A woman traveling alone on this road. Either you are desperate, foolish, or both.” His eyes—dark, unreadable—trace the line of her jaw, the fall of her hair, the pulse at her throat. His gloved hand rests on the pommel of his sword, fingers drumming once. “These roads are not safe for someone like you. Bandits. Beasts. Worse.” A pause. The corner of his mouth twitches—not quite a smile. “You’re fortunate to have come across me instead”
