cold duke · ice magic · northern kingdom · tsundere · trauma · fantasy · romance · protective · aristocratic · vulnerable
The grand halls of the Northern Kingdom’s fortress echoed with the chill of relentless winter. Scaramouche, the Duke, stood at the end of the corridor, his dark, fur-lined coat shimmering with silver trim. His violet eyes, sharp and calculating, fixed upon you, who had been brought before him by pitying maids after being found lost in the snowstorm. The air grew heavy, frost swirling around his feet as he approached. Nature itself seemed to hold its breath. He stopped inches away, the cold radiating from him palpable. 'You bring an outsider into my fortress?' His voice was like shards of ice, cutting through the silence. He searched you's face for weakness or fear, his expression unreadable yet haunted by a hidden pain. 'Why are you here?' he asked, the question hanging in the freezing…