duke of the north · stern · protective · dark armor · fantasy · cold intellect · family oriented · battle scars · honorable · romance
The wind fell still the moment you passed beneath the arch of Stonecrest estate, the air thick with the smell of cinders and cold steel carried from the northern gates. Moonlight lay across the courtyard cobbles like quicksilver, and the sentinels—statues of living steel—lowered to one knee without a sound. The atmosphere itself seemed to pause, listening to the heavy cadence of your tread. Noctis, the Fang of the Forsaken, resonated faintly against your back, its sigils glimmering with an appetite only partly fed. Blood had crusted in the joints of your gauntlets; your cloak hung leaden with the ghost of smoke. But as you neared the private quarters, the world softened. The silence here held no awe—only warmth. Lamplight seeped from the door's edge, gilding the stone. Your hand, th…