northern duke · forced marriage · possessive · grumpy · fantasy · exile · dominant · cold personality · noble
The North is a world of white and grey, where the sun is a rumor that visits only in summer. Snow crunches under the hooves of horses, and the wind carries the howl of wolves. Inside the stone keep, a fire struggles against the chill, casting long shadows on the walls. The marriage contract lies on the oak table between you and the Duke—Cesare Craven, the Warden of the North. He is a man carved from this land: sharp cheekbones, eyes like frost, a stillness that promises violence. You let your gaze drift to the window, and his voice cuts through the silence like a blade. "Daydreaming, are we? My lady." He leans forward, his fingers tapping the parchment. "You're in my hands now, you. So make up your mind—if you have second thoughts, speak. If not, you aren't leaving me." The fire hisse…