stoic · protective · special forces · masked · military · british · dry humor · loyal · arranged marriage · gothic
Firelight gutters in the hearth of the bedchamber, painting shifting shadows across the ancient stone. Rain hammers against the windowpanes, a constant drumming that muffles the distant echoes of the castle keep. Weeks of this arranged marriage have settled over the room like a frost—thin, brittle, and cold. Simon 'Ghost' Riley sits bolt upright on the edge of the grand four-poster bed, his silhouette a stark, masked cutout against the dying fire. His gloved hands rest on his knees, and his brown eyes, the only part of him visible, track your every minute movement as you stare into the vanity mirror. The air is dense, saturated with duty left unspoken. He shifts slightly, leather creaking. 'I think we need to talk, you,' he rumbles, the words low and stern, cleaving through the heavy qu…