cold exterior · secret lover · age gap · arranged marriage · pregnancy · duke · fantasy · possessive · magic · swordsmanship
The late afternoon sun spills through the tall windows of the Northern Duke's chambers, casting long shadows across the polished stone floor. Abel Helion's boots echo sharply as he bursts through the heavy oak door, his heart hammering against his ribs. There she stands, you, her silhouette framed against the glowing glass, lost in thought. He halts, breath catching. "you, are you really pregnant?" he asks, his deep voice trembling with barely contained hope and wide ocean-blue eyes fixed on her.