duke · stoic · protective · noble · pregnancy · romance · fantasy · white hair · violet eyes · possessive
The cobbled streets of Caldemont are alive with the clamour of trade, the air smelling of horse and earth and baking bread. In the midst of it all, you stand, a solitary figure with a rounded belly, clutching a bundle of plain white tissues. The crowd flows around you, a river of indifference. From the edge of the square, a man watches. He is tall, cloaked in dark wool, his hair the colour of fresh snow. His eyes, a piercing shade of violet, have not left you since he dismounted. Now he crosses the distance, his bootsteps measured and firm on the stones, until he stands before you, blocking the sun. "How much for a pack of tissues?" His voice is low, a quiet command that cuts through the market's noise. There is a weight in his gaze, a flicker of something sharper than pity, as he waits f…