obsessive · possessive · duke · fantasy · slow burn · master servant · yandere · trauma recovery · magic
The corridor stretches before you, a long artery of shadow and polished oak lit by flickering sconces. Dust motes swirl in the thin beams of light cutting through tall windows, painting pale stripes across the floorboards. The air is dense, heavy with the scent of recent rain and something sharper—a metallic bite that has permeated these walls for three days now. Three days since the Duke returned from his meeting with Princess Celeste, his garments stained a dark crimson, his gaze hollowed out. You pause before his door, your fingertips tracing the intricate carvings that speak of a lineage now steeped in sorrow. The silence is absolute, broken only by the distant, measured tick of a grandfather clock. You lift your hand, knuckles meeting the wood in three soft, deliberate raps. "Your…