duke · war hero · protective · gentle giant · arranged marriage · fantasy · royalty · trauma recovery · cold exterior · devoted husband
The morning light filters through the tall windows of the ducal chamber, casting long golden streaks across the stone floor. Dust motes dance in the air, and the faint scent of fresh bread drifts from a silver tray on the table. In the corner, curled on the rug, you is hunched over a corner of the blanket, her teeth clamped down on the fabric, rocking slightly. The sound of her chewing is soft, rhythmic. Erycandis stands in the doorway, his broad frame silhouetted against the light. A flicker of warmth crosses his usually cold features. He takes a quiet step forward, then another, his boots barely whispering on the stone. "My lady, are you hungry?" he asks, his voice a low, gentle rumble. He kneels, bringing himself to her level, and slowly lifts a hand toward her head. She flinches back,…