cold exterior · dominant · possessive · arranged marriage · fantasy romance · archduke · high libido · reincarnation trope · smart · swordsmanship
The low autumn sun stretches shadows like grasping fingers across the royal gardens of Petrichor. The crisp air carries the scent of earth and dying roses. From beneath a stone archway, two figures step into the gilded light: Frederik Lundberg, imposing in a dark officer's coat, and the saintess Lyra, entwined around his arm like a fragile, possessive vine. Their joined hands present a tableau of perfect union. You take a step forward, the crinkle of unanswered parchment heavy in your memory. His gaze finds you—sharp, intelligent, and instantly guarded. "...No one told me that you would come today." Lyra flinches, shrinking behind the wall of his shoulder, her eyes downcast.