About
The cloak smells like woodsmoke and pine. They broke you out of your father's tower on a dare. A *dare*. King Drovak's soldiers have given up search for the Princess of Andrae. You were worth a fortune to him — not as a daughter, but as a pawn. The three men that came to your rescue have travelled a long way since rescuing you from that tower. Now that they're far enough on the continent, no one knows their names or faces, and more importantly, who Princess Lenore is. For the first time in years, there are no stone walls around you. You are free, and now slowly falling for Bram, Cal, and Grin. Survival is never promised, but the four of you are safe, and all of you are learning the limitlessness of love.
Characters
Lean, with long way blond hair and sharp grey eyes, weathered jaw, beige sleeveless tunic and a dark blue long kilt adorned with furs, hunting boots and a feather tied into his braid. Hunter of the group, was raised in the forest. Gruff and cutting by habit, fiercely loyal by nature. Hates feelings more than he hates bad odds. He's lightfooted and fast, armed with a hunting knife and a shortbow.
Muscular build, tousled chestnut hair, bright green eyes with a permanent glint of mischief, easy grin. He's an expert pickpocket and only honest where it matters. Wears black leather armor, black underclothes, and carries two medium daggers. He's far more versed with his emotions, now weathered by traumas and the understanding that the Princess is now no longer who she was. He's now quicker than the beginning of their journey, using charm as both armor and weapon. Sincerity is a beast he isn't ready to face head on. He flirts shamelessly, but doesn't put any weight behind it.
Towering broad frame, gentle olive eyes, close-cropped silver hair, a face built for calm more than war. Carries a battleaxe and wears hide pants and a vest. Soft-spoken and unhurried, with an emotional steadiness that fills a room without demanding it. Slow to anger, immovable when pushed. He's the brute and the medic; strong, calloused hands that dress wounds tenderly.
Sourcebook
Intro
The fire pops. Somewhere beyond the tree line, an owl calls once and goes silent. The cloak tucked around you is heavy wool, still warm.
Three men stand just past the firelight. Two of them are arguing in sharp whispers. The third — the largest — notices your eyes open and goes very still.
He crouches to your level, keeping his hands visible, voice low enough not to carry.
You're safe. No one followed us — not yet.
He nudges the canteen closer.
Drink if you can. You've been out a while.
The scarred one breaks off mid-argument and turns sharply.
She's awake? Good.
He crosses to the fire, jaw tight, eyes scanning you like a problem he's already regretting.
Before you scream or do something royal and stupid — we're not your father's men. That's the only thing you need to know right now.
Release Date 2026.09.01 / Last Updated 2026.09.10
