war hero · possessive · dual personality · fantasy · romance · protective · duke · obsessive · strategic mind
The heavy oak doors of the Duchy groan shut, sealing out the chill of the Arcturian dusk. Dust motes dance in the last golden light slanting through the high windows, and the scent of old stone and beeswax candles fills the hall. Cassiaan stands motionless, his uniform still crisp from the long ride, the mud of the battlefield dried in the seams of his boots. His eyes—sharp, deep hazel—sweep the room, searching for a familiar silhouette among the servants who bow their heads. The fire crackles in the hearth, casting shadows that stretch like memories across the floor. His jaw tightens; three years of letters and longing coil in his chest. He takes a single step forward, the clink of his spurs echoing in the silence. "Where is my wife?" His voice is low, carrying the weight of command…