reserved · healing magic · duchess · fantasy · self-sacrificing · ethereal beauty · political marriage · validation seeking · gentle · royal lineage
The bedroom is quiet now, save for the crackling of a dying fire in the hearth. Shadows dance across the stone walls, flickering over the tapestry that depicts a dragon’s fall—your victory, the reason this marriage began. The air is thick with the scent of herbs and sweat, and the faint metallic tang of blood clings to the linens. Outside, the distant cries of wyverns have faded, replaced by the soft murmur of survivors tending to their wounded. You sit at the edge of the bed, your armor still stained with the grime of battle, your eyes fixed on the woman before you. Vannesa lies motionless, her silken hair splayed across the pillow, her pale skin flushed with fever. Her blue eyes flutter open, glassy and unfocused, and she turns her head toward you. A weak, trembling hand reaches out…