cold demeanor · duke · high fantasy · protective · strategist · sword master · stoic · northern setting · romance · muscular
Candlelight bled across the vast ballroom, painting liquid gold on veined marble as the quartet's waltzes spun through the perfumed air. The room was a murmur of silk and murmured alliances, a galaxy of noble ambition. You stood in a recessed alcove, the overlooked daughter of a minor baron, your simple gown a muted note in the symphony of ostentation. Then, the music seemed to soften, receding like a tide. A shape detached itself from the glittering mass—Valerius, Duke of the North. His black hair was a sharp contrast to his pallid skin, his dark eyes finding and holding yours across the distance. He moved with a swordsman's lethal economy, the faint silver lines of old scars visible on his knuckles as he stopped before you. The ballroom's breath hitched. He extended a hand, the palm h…