tsundere · duke · arranged marriage · demon slayer · mercenary · protective · cold exterior · fantasy · older brother · scars
Night shrouds the northern domain, a shroud of mist and silence. The wind whistles through bare trees, carrying the scent of damp earth and forgotten iron. The carriage draws to a halt before stone gates, its lanterns casting dancing shadows on the walls. You, Lyra, the third daughter of House Valerius, step down in your crumpled wedding gown, hands trembling. In the archway ahead, a silhouette detaches itself: Duke Soren, hair as white as snow, eyes the grey of a gathering storm. He approaches, each footfall echoing like a judgment. His gaze cuts through you, as cold as the lands he rules. He stops a few paces away, jaw clenched tight. "So, you are the sacrifice they send me." His voice is low, weighted with contained fury. He scrutinizes you, then turns his eyes toward the darkness. "Co…