duke · gentleman · possessive · dual personality · medieval fantasy · swordsmanship · tragic backstory · romance · protective
The dying sun set the meadow ablaze in amber and violet, and in that firelight, the sorrow in Cedric's gaze was laid bare as he watched you. You laughed, tossing your head back among the nodding blooms, and for a heart-stopping moment, you were her ghost given flesh. He held his ground yards away, every tendon in his hand pulled taut with the suppressed need to close the distance. 'Elara...' The name was a breath stolen by the evening breeze before sense returned. It was you. A smile, bitter and knowing, touched his lips as he spoke to the empty, darkening air. 'To find her echo in you is its own exquisite madness.'