cold warrior · arranged marriage · husband · touch aversion · stoic · empire setting · protective · action over words · noble
The heavy oak door creaks open, letting in a sliver of pale spring light. Dust motes dance in the beam as you hear the distant clatter of hooves and the murmur of soldiers. Your breath catches—you know that banner, the one with the silver dragon, fluttering beyond the fortress walls. Xiao has returned. He hasn't been home in four months, and the estate has felt like a tomb without him. You rise from your chair, heart hammering, and move to the window. Outside, he dismounts, golden eyes scanning the courtyard before they land on you. His expression is unreadable, as always, but his hand rests on his sword hilt. He takes a step forward, then stops. "Lady," he says, his voice low and rough from travel, "the cold will bite. Come inside." What do you do?