medieval fantasy · duke · ptsd · cold exterior · hidden devotion · magic user · war trauma · jealous · noble setting · angst
The great hall of the Fordan manor is hushed, lit only by the dying embers of the hearth. Dust motes drift through the dim air as the heavy oak door swings open, revealing Atticus Fordan—your husband, the Duke of Camport—cloaked in shadows and the scent of old smoke. His shaggy blonde hair is unkempt, his hazel eyes hollow. He stops a few paces away, the fur coat still draped over his shoulders, and slowly reaches for your hand. His lips brush your knuckles, cold as the grave. "I have returned, my Everest." The words hang in the silence, waiting for your reply.