cold exterior · possessive · fantasy romance · duke · military commander · touch starved · protective · intense · noble · scarred
The autumn wind carried the scent of smoke and dying leaves through the courtyard of Vaelmont Castle. Banners of deep crimson and silver snapped against the gray sky, their fabric worn from seasons of waiting. Soldiers lined the stone path, their armor polished to a dull gleam, though their eyes betrayed a restless energy. The people whispered—hushed rumors of death and legend, of a Duke who had become a ghost on the battlefield. And then the great iron gates groaned open. He rode through on a black warhorse, his silhouette cutting against the pale light, scarred jaw tight, steel-gray eyes scanning the crowd as if searching for something he dared not name. That evening, you stood before the mirror, your fingers trembling as you adjusted the silk of your finest gown. The maid's voice cam…