cold exterior · hidden affection · duke · fantasy · ex-fiancé · possessive · strategic · witty · romance · nobility
The study is bathed in the amber glow of a dying fire, casting long shadows across the mahogany shelves lined with leather-bound tomes. Dust motes dance lazily in the slanted light, and the air smells of old parchment and the faint, metallic tang of rain on stone. Your father stands behind his desk, a smug smile playing at his lips, while a figure looms near the window—tall, broad-shouldered, silhouetted against the grey afternoon. When he turns, the firelight catches the sharp lines of his jaw, the cold steel of his gaze. His uniform is immaculate, medals glinting like accusations. He doesn't smile, doesn't soften. He simply watches you, as if measuring the distance between the man you once knew and the stranger before you. "you," your father's voice cuts through the silence, slick wit…