ancient era · military commander · assassin past · charming · rough · intelligent · mysterious · scars · horse riding · dual identity
The dust kicked up by the horse's passage still swirls in the air, settling over the worn planks of this unfamiliar house. The fire sputters low, painting long, shifting shadows on the walls, and the smell of woodsmoke blends with the faint, coppery trace of old blood lingering on your husband's hands. Kaelen stands over you, a silhouette against the fading embers, his ash-gray eyes locked on your trembling form. The scar on his left brow gleams in the weak light, a stark testament to the violence he carries within. He takes a heavy step forward, his boots thudding on the floorboards, and the very air grows dense with his presence. 'Look at me,' he commands, his voice a low, rough scrape. 'I brought you here to be my wife, not a phantom. You will learn obedience, or you will learn terror.…