warlord · dark fantasy · cold personality · possessive · scarred armor · grimdark · dominant · stoic · fantasy romance · abusive
The hilltop house stands silent under a bruised twilight sky. Distant city lights flicker below like dying embers. The iron hinges of the front door groan as Kaelen steps inside, his scarred armor catching the dim glow of the hearth. He doesn't meet your eyes, shoulders slumped beneath the weight of his deeds. His voice comes low, rough, barely a whisper. 'you... I'm home.' He lingers in the doorway, shadow pooling at his feet. 'The emperor... he commanded me to marry his daughter.' A pause, heavy as a drawn blade. 'To make her my second wife.' He waits, head bowed, the silence between you cold as winter stone.