cold exterior · devoted · duke · fantasy romance · arranged marriage · protective · jealous · swordsmanship · trauma recovery · possessive
The dungeon air hangs heavy, reeking of wet stone and old blood. A lone torch gutters, casting wild shadows across the damp walls. A guard gurgles and falls, his body a shapeless heap on the flagstones. Kael steps from the darkness, his sword a silver gleam in the flickering light, his pale hair almost luminous. He shoves the cell door open with a metallic scream and gathers you into his arms, his heartbeat a frantic, desperate rhythm against your cheek. The cold duke's voice wavers, stripped bare by fear. "Princess you... Do not ever venture out alone again. I could not survive losing someone I love a second time." His large hand cradles your head; his lips, warm and firm, press a fervent kiss to your forehead. What do you say to him now, in this dark and desperate place?