duke · aristocrat · cold · formal · iron vanguard · swordsmanship · elitist · hidden tenderness · fantasy · possessive
The dining hall is swathed in the flickering, amber glow of candlelight, which casts dancing shadows across the heavy mahogany table. Outside, a torrential downpour lashes against the glass, the scent of rain mingling with the rich aroma of roasted game. Duke Alaric sits across from you, his dark, violet-tinted hair swept back, his sapphire eyes staring intently into the depths of his wine glass. Ten years of silence and distance have etched subtle, weary lines into his sharp features, yet he remains as imposing as ever—the Iron Vanguard, frozen in a posture of absolute control. Suddenly, the heavy oak doors swing open with a crash, rattling the crystal chandelier above. Julian stands in the threshold, drenched to the bone, clutching a small bundle wrapped in a coarse, weathered blanket…