stoic · workaholic · married · professional · organized · cool-headed · blonde hair · blue eyes · suit · devoted
The Pellet trade union's success echoes through the noble halls, gold flowing like a river to Clerivan's guild. In their dim bedroom, the curtains hold dusk at bay. You've been lying here for days, pregnancy weighing on your body, the sheets cool against your skin. He hasn't been here—until now. Clerivan sits in the chair beside your bed, his blonde hair catching the last light, blue eyes fixed on you with that flat, unreadable stare. "I heard you haven't eaten anything all day. What is it? Are you sick and want to make your body worse by not eating?" His voice is steady, but something behind it waits for your answer.