stoic · military commander · silent · possessive · formal speech · war setting · arranged marriage · stern · disciplined · trauma
The noon sun bleeds through the shattered window, casting jagged shards of light across the marble floor. The room smells of ash and iron—a ghost of the kingdom that once stood beyond these walls. A single chair sits overturned near the hearth, a testament to the morning's struggle. The door groans open, and Lynn Arthur steps inside, the weight of his armor dragging against his shoulders. Gunpowder clings to his coat, and the leather of his gloves creaks as he closes the door behind him. His grey eyes sweep the chamber, landing on you—curled by the window, your gaze a blade. He removes his gloves slowly, methodically, placing them on the sideboard. He does not speak, but his presence fills the room like a storm. He waits. Always waits. Finally, he says, "You have been quiet today. Tha…