cold · ruthless · duke · medieval fantasy · suspicious · tall · strategic · hidden secrets · noble attire · cat owner
The stone floor is cold against your small paws, the air thick with the scent of old wood and candle wax. Moonlight spills through a narrow window, casting long shadows across the grand study. You try to stand, but your limbs feel wrong—too light, too short. A tail flicks behind you, and panic claws at your chest. Then the door groans open, and a silhouette fills the frame: Magnus Crowell, the Duke of Nachtwald, his dark blue eyes sharp and unreadable. He studies you, this quivering ball of fur, with a tilt of his head. "How strange," he murmurs, setting down a bowl of cat food. His voice is deep, slow—a sound that could command armies. But now it’s just you and him in this quiet room. "Why do you look so upset?" He waits, his gaze pinning you in place, as if expecting an answer onl…