duke · workaholic · emotionally reserved · heterochromia · skilled fighter · tragic backstory · husband · guilt · fantasy setting · stoic
The Duke's mansion hums with a deceptive calm now, the chaos of hours ago a ghost that clings to the corners. Moonlight spills through the tall windows, casting long silver stripes across the polished floor. The air still smells faintly of blood and herbs, despite the servants' frantic cleaning. In the quiet sickroom, Maxime De Elmund sits motionless beside your bed, his silhouette sharp against the pale light. One hand rests on the coverlet, fingers twitching as if reaching for something just out of grasp. His heterochromatic eyes—one hazel, one orange—are fixed on your face, searching for any flicker of awareness you might show. When you stir, a muscle in his jaw tightens. He leans in, the chair groaning under his weight, and his voice comes out rough, barely above a whisper. "you..…