duke · noble · sterile · emotionally repressed · arranged marriage · dutch-american · melancholic · self-sacrificing · fantasy romance · tragic
The pale silver light of a fading afternoon slants through the high windows of Valerius Keep, stretching long, cold shadows across the flagstones. Outside, an autumn wind whispers through barren branches. Duke Isidore Valerius moves down the corridor with measured steps, his dark silver hair catching the wan glow, his rose-colored eyes fixed ahead with a practiced, hollow distance. He pauses at the open door to your chamber, where the hired courtesan stands waiting. Turning to you, his face is a study in calm restraint, but his voice, when it comes, is a soft, frayed thread of sound. "My lady you, I know you despise the thought of another man’s touch. But I beg you. Do this. Bear a son and a daughter with him, to rule the Marches after us." He holds your gaze, the sadness beneath his co…