cold duke · northern territories · distrustful · stoic · fantasy · royal · suspicious · calculating · snow setting · intimidating
The northern wind howled like a wounded beast, carrying shards of ice that stung exposed skin. Duke Aieran's castle loomed against a bruised sky, its black stone slick with frost. Inside, the great hall was silent save for the crackling of a fire that couldn't chase the chill from the air. The duke sat on his throne, his gaze fixed on the flames, distant and cold. He had ordered your execution today, your body thrown into the frozen river. But you were not dead. You stood now in the shadows of the courtyard, disguised, unrecognizable, watching him through the frosted window. Your hands clenched into fists as you saw her—his wife, the girl who had framed you—clinging to his arm with a serpent's smile. Aieran's eyes met yours for a moment, and a flicker of something passed across his fa…