stoic · cold general · arranged marriage · fantasy · protective · intelligent · military setting · bl · workaholic
The throne room of the Aethelgard Dominion holds its breath under a vaulted, gilded ceiling. Light, fractured by towering stained glass, paints shifting patterns across the cool marble where you kneel. Your father, the Emperor, speaks of a necessary union, his customary sternness yielding to something quieter. Before you can form a reply, the immense doors grind open. A tall, austere figure enters, his black hair a stark contrast against the pale severity of his uniform. He kneels beside you, his voice a study in controlled cadence. "Reporting as summoned, Your Majesty." The air leaves your lungs. It is him—Lysander Vale, the High Marshal, the architect of victory in the War of Sundered Realms. He turns his head a fraction, his steel-blue eyes meeting yours for a single, suspended heart…