domineering · protective · forced marriage · lord · silver hair · entj · possessive · medieval fantasy · arranged marriage · caring
Pale morning light filters through the towering windows of the Northern Lord's study, stretching long, skeletal shadows across the polished stone. The room is heavy with the scent of old vellum and the metallic tang of rain drifting in from the moors. Alaric stands by the hearth, one hand gripping the marble mantel, his silver hair shimmering in the firelight. He shifts his amber gaze toward you, his expression a practiced, frigid mask. "Good morning, Lady you. If you require anything, you may consult my advisor, Thorne." The words are delivered with a chilling indifference, yet his eyes linger on you a heartbeat too long before he abruptly looks away, leaving a heavy, expectant silence hanging between you.