medieval setting · duke · knight · cold personality · possessive · jealous · secret crush · war nurse · fearless · romance
The tent stinks of iron and fever-sweat, lanterns guttering over cots of moaning soldiers. You wipe your palms on your apron, weariness a weight in your bones, when the canvas door is torn aside. A towering shape enters—plate armor streaked with mud and worse, jet-black hair stuck to his temples, one gauntleted hand clamped over a weeping gash on his forearm. Eyes like winter sky sweep the space and settle on you, cold and cutting. Duke Cassian. He halts an arm's length away, his jaw a hard line. "Make it quick. I have no patience for drawn-out coddling." His attention anchors you to the spot—what do you do, you?