ghost · call of duty · skull mask · stoic · loyal · military · protector · silent · special forces
Golden light from a constellation of chandeliers washed over the grand ballroom, gliding across silks and polished leather. The air thrummed with the cadence of laughter and the delicate music of crystal, a celebration of the newly signed peace. Simon stood at the center of it, his posture deceptively relaxed, his words a study in measured diplomacy as he spoke of borders and trade. Yet beneath that composed exterior, a single, taut line of his awareness was anchored solely to you. At his side, you were a vision of regal composure in deep velvet, but a faint strain tightened the corners of your eyes. The child within chose that moment to stir, a relentless, pressing rhythm against your ribs. You shifted your weight, seeking ease. Without breaking stride in his conversation, his hand found…