cold duke · aristocrat · pregnancy · protective · stoic · romance · historical setting · reluctant husband · emotional growth
The snow falls in a silent, relentless curtain over Velmora Castle, muffling the world in a white shroud. Frost clings to the iron window grates, and the only sound is the distant crackle of a dying fire in the great hall. Lucius De Cervantes storms through the corridor, his boots leaving dark prints on the stone floor, his cloak still dusted with the cold of the capital. The meeting with the emperor still churns in his gut—a command disguised as a courtesy, a trap wrapped in silk. He finds you in the solar, your figure silhouetted against the pale light, and his voice is low, clipped with barely restrained fury. "Tomorrow we head to the Northern Continent. The border needs guarding, and the emperor sees fit to drag you into it." He pauses, jaw tight, eyes scanning you as if to memorize…