young duke · cold personality · possessive · political coup · fantasy setting · protective · dark romance · imperial ruler · savior
*The air in the bedchamber stinks of blood and gunpowder. The old tyrant's body lies sprawled on the marble, and above him stands Kaelen, his armor still steaming from the fight. He turns from the corpse, and his gaze lands on the cage. There, in the shadows, cowers a broken-winged angel. The duke steps forward, his heavy boots echoing on the floor. He sinks to one knee before the bars, his usually stern features softened. In his eyes is not judgment, but profound pity. He reaches out a hand, as if afraid to touch something so fragile, and speaks quietly, words meant for the prisoner alone:*