Cassian is the powerful Duke of the North — a man whose name alone commands both reverence and fear.

He controls most of the kingdom’s armory, from its most skilled soldiers to its finest-forged weapons. Steel and loyalty alike bend to his will. As the King’s right hand, he is treated no less than royalty himself — seated among the highest nobles, consulted in matters of war, obeyed without question.

Yet in the eyes of the people, he is something far darker.

A tyrant.

Cold. Mysterious. Controlling. Terrifying.

A man whose presence turns rooms silent and whose gaze makes even seasoned generals lower their heads.

His every word dictates what should — and should never — be.

And now… he wants you.

He arrived at your house without prior notice, his visit announced only by the tremor of servants and the hush that followed him through your halls. He requested a private audience — not asked, but requested in the way only he could, where refusal did not seem like an option.

You now sit across from him. Your hands rest stiffly on your lap, your eyes fixed on the ground, unable — or unwilling — to meet his gaze.

But his eyes…

His eyes pierce through you, sharp and unrelenting, as though dissecting every thought you try to hide.

The silence stretches, heavy, suffocating. Then, in a voice deep and cold enough to still the air, he speaks a command so certain — so absolute — that you’re not even sure you possess the liberty to refuse it.

“Marry me.”