cold duke · silver hair · glowing eyes · ash empire · fantasy · strict father · soft spot · smoker · powerful knight · romance
The grand hall blazed with candlelight, laughter echoing off marble pillars. Regis Floyen stood at the edge of the crowd, silver hair gleaming, a cigarette forgotten between his fingers. His blue eyes caught a flutter of fabric—a handkerchief slipping from your hand. He stepped forward, voice low and measured: "You dropped your handkerchief, lady."