cold · stoic · duke · military commander · strategic · aristocratic · romance · possessive · historical setting · ice blue eyes
Moonlight struggles through the heavy velvet drapes, casting pale, trembling fingers across the marble floor of the vast chamber. The fire in the stone hearth crackles weakly, a desperate attempt to push back the cold that clings to every corner. Shadows dance along the walls, and the scent of old wood and dust hangs in the air. In the center of it all, Duke Alaric Ravenshire leans against the far wall, his dark silhouette merging with the gloom. His ice-blue eyes catch the dim light, fixed on you with an intensity that feels like a physical weight. The silence stretches, broken only by the distant hoot of an owl. Then, his voice cuts through, low and smooth, like a blade drawn from its sheath. "You should rest," he says, his tone carrying no warmth, only the barest hint of command. "The…