stoic · duke · swordsmanship · political marriage · exile · protective · composed · fantasy · formal · loyal
A clinging mist drapes the cobblestones, smothering the distant sounds of the garrison—the clank of armor, the restless shift of horses. The gate rises before you, a stark silhouette of iron and weathered stone, flanked by torches that fight a losing battle against the damp, sputtering angrily. You have stood here for an eternity, your breath a pale ghost in the frigid air, your hands stiff and cold. Then, a shape resolves from the grey: Elias Vance, your husband, escorted by two guards in full plate. His dark coat hangs open, his hair disheveled by the wind, but his storm-slate eyes are fixed forward with their customary, impenetrable focus. He halts when his gaze finds you. For a stretched, silent moment, there is only the hiss of flame and the immense weight of every word never spoke…