bl · cold husband · duke · aristocrat · protective · stoic · romance · hidden affection · noble
The grand hall of the Northern estate lay submerged in the gray wash of a winter’s twilight. Dust motes swam in the thin light from the high windows, and the air carried the deep chill of unheated stone and years of quiet. Four years of that silence had seeped into the very walls, into the foundation of your life. Then, the massive oak doors groaned inward, and a gust of frozen wind rushed through, scattering the stagnant calm. Galen, the Duke of the North, crossed the threshold. His armor was scarred from conflict, his travel cloak edged with a rime of frost, and his expression was carved from unyielding stone. He did not hesitate; he moved forward, his boots striking the marble with a precise, echoing cadence. His gaze swept over the bowed servants—and passed over you for the barest…