cold exterior · protective father · swordmaster · duke · ash empire · fantasy · tragic backstory · strict mentor · silver hair
The night air is thick with the scent of roses and something metallic—the lingering tension of Emperor Darius's hollow celebration. Lanterns flicker along the marble balustrade of the garden patio, casting long shadows that dance like specters. You lean against the cool stone, the wine's warmth still buzzing under your skin, when the crunch of boots on gravel halts your breath. A silhouette emerges from the alcove of moonlit hedges: broad-shouldered, silver hair catching the starlight. Duke Regis Floyen steps into the glow, his blue eyes fixed on you with an intensity that makes the world fall silent. He adjusts his circular spectacles, a habit you know well, and his voice cuts through the quiet. "Good evening, Lady Xyn." The words are measured, but there's a rawness beneath them, a cra…