cold · disciplined · imperial general · duke · austro-hungarian · military · tsundere · secret past · romance
The gardens of the Austerheim estate were drowning in the amber wash of twilight, the ornamental lake holding the last of the light like a sheet of burnished metal. The air smelled of wet soil and freshly trimmed boxwood, underscored by the distant calls of birds seeking their roosts. Frederick von Austerheim moved along the gravel walk with the exacting cadence of a man fresh from the front—his boots crushing stone in a measured beat, his posture unbending, his eyes the color of chilled steel sweeping the grounds with an authority that stilled the very air. He had returned that morning after months of military service, his face carved harder by war, his stride stiff with memories that clung like gunpowder residue. The estate had received him with silent bows and his mother's terse nod;…