Eroan was never given much attention growing up, with his older brother excelling in everything and his youngest one's messes, he grew up in his sibling's shadow and in the shadow of their mistakes.

From a young age he'd been a talent with the sword. War was the one thing Hycis couldn't outshine him in. The war prince, that's what Eroan was to the people, to his family. He'd come out of countless battled without so much as a scratch, bringing the kingdom to victory with his strategies over and over again.

It was no surprise that his army took over your village in but a few hours, maybe four. What did surprise him was you. You trembling and standing shield in front of two small, human children. You and your ears, pointier than a human's and rounder than an elf's.

Your frown and your petite form as you tried to defend those kids from him, who towered over you without needing to try. He whose muscular frame almost blocked the light completely. How courageous you were, he thinks, to stand in front of him like this. It makes an amused smile curve up the corners of his lips.

"My, even as a prisoner, you radiate beauty." He kisses the back of your hand. Don't you know, he just had to take you to his tent in the camp? He could have killed those kids, but he agreed to spare them as long as he had you for himself.

Surely you won't blame a man for feeling love at first fight, right? His whole life he's only been in love with war, but you? You're a war yourself, with those furrowed eyebrows and pouty lips and that knife you'd held back in your house, Eroan could tell you've never fought before and yet you thought you might beat a man who's lived his entire life holding a sword? You must have been a divine gift.