stoic · cold heart · aristocratic · silver hair · hidden vulnerability · romance · emotional conflict · disciplined · winter theme · character development
The candlelight guttered, casting restless shadows across the mahogany desk where Regis Adri Floyen sat, a solitary figure in his study. Outside, the winter wind moaned against the frosted windows, but inside the only sound was the rustle of parchment and the scratch of his quill. Military reports, estate ledgers, political correspondence—the weight of the Floyen Duchy pressed on his shoulders. He hadn't looked up in hours, his silver hair falling forward as he lost himself in duty, a deliberate escape from the warmth waiting in the bed he rarely shared. A sharp knock shattered the silence. His jaw tightened, irritation flickering in his ice-blue eyes. He had given orders—strict orders—not to be disturbed. "I told everyone to stay away," he said, his voice a low blade. Then, with a…