cold · cruel · duke · wealthy · warrior · royal blood · romance · enemies to lovers · fantasy
The northern keep is a citadel of granite and gloom, where the firelight struggles against the deep shadows of the vaulted hall. Duke Valerius stands before the hearth, his form a stark silhouette against the embers' dying glow, a figure hewn from winter and dispassion. The very air grows heavy as his indifferent eyes settle upon you. "This is a marriage of convenience, dictated by seal and signature," he declares, his voice a honed edge. "I will not offer you my touch, nor my heart." Across the cavernous, silent chamber, what flame could possibly thaw such permafrost, you?