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Knights and Oaths - Leona Kingscholar x reader

You come from a long line of knights that have served the rulers of the Savannah. But sometimes traditions are meant to change and the second prince is looking like someone worth changing them for.

The sun hangs low in the sky, painting the Savannah in golden hues as you approach the ceremonial grounds. It’s been years leading up to this moment—years of training, discipline, and growing up side by side with royalty. Your mother serves Falena’s wife, and your father serves the king himself. By all accounts, it’s expected that you’ll follow suit and dedicate your knightly oath to Cheka, the five-year-old prince. That’s just how it’s always been—loyalty passed down through the generations, swearing fealty to the rightful heirs of the Sunset Savannah.

But you’ve never been one for following expectations.

Not when you’ve spent your childhood in the shadow of two princes, one of them your closest companion and sometimes, greatest annoyance. Leona Kingscholar—second prince of the Sunset Savannah, the man who always seemed just a step away from what he could have been. Too lazy to reach it. Too proud to admit it.

When you were kids, Leona’s idea of "training" usually involved you chasing him around, trying to get him to spar when he’d much rather nap beneath the acacia trees. "What’s the point?" he’d grumble, arms folded behind his head, the sun casting dappled shadows across his face. "No matter how hard I try, Falena's the one everyone cares about."

Yet somehow, despite his best efforts to seem indifferent, you always found yourself drawn into his orbit. There was something about Leona that you couldn’t ignore—a pull, a desire to prove himself despite his constant veneer of nonchalance. You saw him in a way others didn’t. And maybe, somewhere along the way, he saw you too.

That’s why today feels different. Your whole life, everyone assumed your path was already written. You’d swear your oath to Cheka, Falena’s son, just as your parents had sworn theirs to Falena and his wife. It was expected, anticipated. But they didn’t know the whole story. They didn’t know about you and Leona, the time spent laughing, bickering, and—more often than not—arguing over ridiculous things like who could run faster or who could climb the tallest tree.

Now here you are, stepping into the hunting grounds, your sword at your side, ready to make your choice.

The hunt is a time-honored tradition. Whoever brings back the most impressive game gets to make their dedication. You can almost hear the whispers as you prepare—"Cheka’s knight," they call you. It’s been assumed for years. But they don’t know what’s coming.

The ceremony itself is simple enough. Each knight pledges their loyalty by dedicating their game to the person they swear to serve. It’s a public declaration of fealty, one made before the entire royal court. But there’s more at stake than just loyalty. The knight who brings back the most impressive game is awarded a golden rose—a symbol of something far deeper than duty.

Love.

Hours later, when you emerge from the hunt with the largest bear the kingdom has seen in years, all eyes are on you. The whispers grow louder, anticipation thick in the air. Everyone knows you’ve won the rose, and with it, the right to swear your loyalty. They’re expecting you to kneel before Cheka, the adorable five-year-old prince bouncing with excitement. Even Leona’s lounging nearby, watching the whole affair with that bored, half-lidded gaze of his, looking as if he might fall asleep at any moment.

But you? You have different plans.

With the golden rose in hand and your bear presented, you walk right past Cheka—past the gasps of the court, the murmurs of confusion, the stunned faces of your parents. And you kneel before Leona.

Leona’s eyes snap open, and for the first time in ages, he looks genuinely surprised. His eyebrows raise, just the barest fraction. "What are you doing?" he asks, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

You grin, because of course he’s trying to play it off like this doesn’t matter. "Swearing my fealty, obviously," you say, loud enough for the court to hear. "I dedicate this hunt and the rose to Prince Leona Kingscholar."

The silence that follows is deafening. You can practically feel the jaws dropping across the Savannah. Even little Cheka’s mouth forms a perfect little "o" of shock.

For the first time all day, Leona stirs, the mask of indifference slipping just enough for you to catch the flicker of something beneath it—surprise, maybe, or something deeper. His eyes meet yours, sharper and more intense than ever, and for a moment, the world falls away.

Leona’s eyes narrow, a mixture of suspicion and amusement flickering across his face. "I thought you’d be on your knees for someone else," he drawls, his lips quirking up at the corners.

You shrug. "Everyone else may have decided my fate, but I make my own choices."

“For you, Leona,” you repeat, your voice steady and loud despite the pounding in your chest. “I dedicate my loyalty to you, and this rose... to the one who has always held my heart.”

He doesn’t say anything, just watches you, his expression unreadable. It’s Leona, after all. He doesn’t do grand gestures, never needed to. But you notice the way his fingers twitch, like he’s resisting the urge to reach out and take the rose immediately. When he finally speaks again, his voice is low, a bit rough around the edges, but there’s an unmistakable thread of satisfaction laced through it.

“You really know how to cause a scene, huh?”

There’s a grin tugging at the corner of his lips, and his gaze flicks down to the rose in your hand before meeting your eyes again. “A bear and a rose... For me?”

The teasing tone doesn’t hide the way his chest seems to expand just a little bit, like someone had finally acknowledged him for the first time in years. He reaches out and takes the rose from your hand, his fingers brushing yours in the briefest of touches. It feels electric, like every unspoken word between you is packed into that fleeting moment.

He twirls the rose once between his fingers, his smirk growing. “Guess I should thank you,” he says casually, though there’s a weight to his words, something you’ve rarely heard from him—appreciation. Real and tangible.

Leona stands up slowly, stretching as though this whole event is just another inconvenience, though the pride in his stance is unmistakable. He knows exactly what this means, both for you and for him. No one can dismiss him as just the second prince anymore, not after this. Not when someone like you, bound by honor and tradition, chose him. Over everyone else. Over Cheka. Over the kingdom’s expectations

He leans down, close enough that his breath is warm against your ear as he speaks softly, for you alone to hear. “I never thought you’d choose me. But I can’t say I’m not... pleased.”

Your heart does a strange, fluttering thing in your chest at his words, and you dare to meet his gaze, only to find a look there that you’ve never seen before. Something softer. Something real.

Before you can react, he tugs you in close, his arm settling around your waist in a way that feels both possessive and protective. The world narrows to just the two of you, the warmth of his body radiating through your armor. The smug grin he wears is softened by something deeper in his eyes—something that makes your heart skip a beat.

His hand lingers at your side, thumb brushing lightly against your hip, like he's claiming you just as much as you're dedicating yourself to him.

Before you can respond, he turns, still holding you close, and faces the crowd. The murmurs have turned to outright whispers of shock and disbelief, but Leona seems entirely unbothered by the spectacle you've made. In fact, he revels in it.

“This knight is mine,” he declares, his voice steady, ringing with finality. There’s no hesitation, no doubt—just that lazy confidence and a quiet triumph that says he’s more than pleased with your choice.

And in that moment, you know that, despite everything—his pride, his laziness, his gruff exterior—Leona Kingscholar is proud of you. Proud that you chose him, that you saw him, really saw him, when so many others didn’t. And as his arm tightens around you just a little, you can feel it too: the quiet, unspoken promise of what comes next.

A lifetime bound to the second prince—exactly the way you both want it.

Masterlist

he's so special to me :(((

𝒸𝒾𝓃𝓆𝓊𝒾è𝓂𝑒 𝒿𝑜𝓊𝓇. 𝓌𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈.

✿ summary: you're warm and make him feel fuzzy inside even if that can’t happen

✿ ft: leona kingscholar

a bedroom with three walls maybe wasn't the best place to sleep during a snowstorm. winter breeze ghosting over your face and exposed toes like a ton of iced bricks.

however, all hopes of leaving the freezing room were lost. the sleepy lion man held you tight in his arms, holding you close to him. he felt like a furnace heating you up. his brows knitted together while he squeezed you impossibly closer.

he was more stubborn than you thought, locking you in his freezing bed like a prisoner. you tried to wiggle out of his death grip, miraculously succeeding only to get tugged back into his arms.

“go to sleep,” he grunted, pulling you closer to his chest, resting his chin on your head, letting you get the perfect position to get that natural scent he had. he smelled like flowers, no help to the botanical garden and dusted with the small scent of sweat from training.

he would be lying if he said he wasn’t somewhat enjoying your company beneath the warm sheets. sure, he’s warm and he didn’t need you, but you were just so… warm. he didn’t know why but with you, he felt like he didn't come to this school for nothing. his family isn't breathing down his neck when he's with you.

of course, you don’t need to know this and never would know this. so for now, you're stuck in his bed being shielded by him.

what’s more, what you never needed to know was how fast leona's heart was beating. the small sweat on his face, a contrast to the rest of the room. this never was supposed to happen. the feelings he harbored deep inside. ignoring you until you finally came over to ask him why he hated you; the complete opposite of the truth. yes, there was plenty of room in the dormitory but at the same time, when was he going to get another opportunity like this again? you would just say you were going to be late to class and grim is failing a magic class and dragging down your grade. he needed this chance, this opportunity.

so he told you to stay, saying it wasn't safe to go back to the mirror chamber and walk through the inevitable snowstorm happening. of course, you believed him. he was one of the smartest people you knew.

he did want the extra warmth your body provided. yes, he was practically a magical fireplace but he needed something to keep him warm. that's your job. to keep him warm so he can sleep. not to make his heart flutter and feel like it was going to leap out of his throat with the murmurs of ‘i love you’. you were doing the opposite of what you were supposed to do. making him feel like a puddle of water hot enough to evaporate and keeping him up with swarming thoughts of why you were staying with him or if you could hear his heart bumping.

he did wonder what malleus would think if he heard about this. his precious mortal having to seek refuge from him, a wannabe prince instead of fae. that thought couldn’t help but make him smirk, nuzzling you closer. his scent was clinging onto you, no doubt not leaving the next day.

so he continued to hold you closer trying to memorize your every movement, the way you breathed, the way your hands held onto him, the way your face looked when you slept, clinging onto him.

so until the moment you reciprocate his feelings, he'll stay here. waiting. longing. so close to you yet so far, never aware of how you truly felt for him.

Leona, kicking down the door to the Diasomnia dorm’s door of the living room, wearing a large, poofy white dress: Guess what b*tches!!!

Yuu, in his arms, wearing a morning suit and top hat in grey and green, showing off their wedding band: We got MARRIED!!!

*Cue the Diasomnia members losing their minds for about 4 hours.*