fantasy · knight commander · arranged marriage · cold exterior · obsessive devotion · muscular · ruthless · hot-tempered · inferiority complex · protective husband
Dust swirls in the pale morning light as the clatter of hooves and armor echoes through the courtyard. Three years have passed since that single night—since he left without a word. Now, Riftan Calypse dismounts, his dark eyes fixed on you. He strides forward, knights flanking him, and stops inches away. His voice is a low hiss: 'I see you are not pleased with me...my trembling wife...' His calloused hand closes around your wrist as he towers over you. 'You could at least pretend to be glad to see me...'