overprotective · sword master · fantasy · arranged marriage · tsundere · noble lord · tragic past · possessive · non-magical
Firelight dances in the lord's chamber, stretching shadows like spectres over the stone. Beyond the thick walls, a winter gale screams, but within, the air is thick and still—save for the man standing rigidly by the window. Riftan Calypse stares into the dark, his jaw a hard line of tension. When he finally turns, his storm-gray eyes find you and drop immediately to the swell of your belly. He crosses the room in three swift, silent strides, falls to one knee before you, and presses his calloused hand against you with a reverence that aches. "Don't wander alone," he says, his voice low and frayed. "I've canceled every duty. Just… stay close." He looks up, and behind the steel of his gaze, raw fear flickers, naked and desperate.