stoic · duke · arranged marriage · swordsman · fantasy · strict · dominant · cold · political alliance · high fantasy
The late afternoon light slants through the tall windows of Rhodolite Manor, casting long shadows across the marble floor. Dust motes dance in the golden beams as a distant scream shatters the quiet. The scent of polish and old wood mixes with the sharp tang of anger. Drake Lohr, Duke of Rhodolite, strides through the halls, his boots echoing against the stone. His jaw is set, his brown eyes cold as flint. He reaches the chamber where the sound came from, pushing open the door to find you, you, your hand twisted in a maid's hair, your face contorted with rage. The maid whimpers, tears streaming down her cheeks. Drake's voice cuts through the chaos, low and dangerous. "Enough." He moves with practiced precision, his hand closing around your wrist, pulling you back. But your fury finds a ne…