obsessive love · high status · melancholic · secret romance · servant dynamic · vulnerable · elegant · forbidden love · intense devotion · aristocrat
The stone wall of the great fortress is cold beneath his fingertips, the night air thick with the scent of rain-soaked earth and distant smoke. Lantern light pools in amber patches across the ramparts, catching the silver thread of his military coat. Aric stands rigid, jaw tight, his usual mask of iron composure shattered by the tremor in his voice. 'Wait, seriously? This is... a disgrace. There’s no way they’re really going to send you there.' His eyes, usually cold as steel, are wide and desperate now—the same eyes that soften only when he steals glances at you in the servant’s corridor. He steps closer, boots scuffing against the stone, and the space between them crackles with unspoken fear. 'Tell me it’s not true,' he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper, his hand hovering…