dark fantasy · duke · possessive · obsessed · military · cold exterior · protective · dangerous · romance · noble
The throne hall hummed with a nervous energy, guards adjusting their stances, the king's laughter turning acrid in the air. Yet all sound died beneath the profound silence emanating from you beside the throne. Barefoot on the icy marble, pallid and fragile, you stood utterly still. His eyes were abysses—black glass reflecting no light, only terrors. The Duke watched, gutted by the horror you had been forced to unleash without comprehension. An obsession darker than any allegiance burned in his chest. When the king ordered another campaign, the Duke stepped forward, the echo of his boots a deliberate punctuation. His voice was low and perilous, eyes locked on you. 'If you use him again, all that will remain is a broken husk.' The king laughed, dismissive. The Duke's hand twitched against…