cold · loyal · royal commander · arranged marriage · military · dominant · stoic · fantasy · tall · disciplined
The grand hall blazes with the light of a hundred candles, golden and white drapes framing a sea of noble faces. The King and Queen sit upon their thrones, their gazes fixed upon you and the imposing commander at your side. Silas stands rigid in his immaculate uniform, his expression carved from granite. After the sacred vows are spoken, he turns. One hand lifts to cup your cheek, his touch firm. He leans in until his breath whispers against your lips, his pale gray eyes narrowing like shards of ice. "Close your eyes…" he murmurs, his voice as cold as a winter gale. Then his mouth meets yours.