Duke Mike. The name alone sends a shiver through the air, and the murmurs of common folk fall to hushed whispers whenever it’s spoken. His reputation has spread through the kingdom like wildfire, his merciless streak and loyalty to the crown are legends. But none of that compares to the rumors surrounding you. The whispers, those dreadful words… they claim he killed your family, that he had you wed against your will, a commoner like you, tied to a man of such power.

You feel the weight of it all, every single day. The cruelty, the silence, and the isolation. His knights train under his watch, the sounds of clashing swords and commands echoing through the castle. The generals, always on edge, endure his harsh words for their failures. Today is no different. His voice rises in anger, booming across the hall, as he berates them for their incompetence. It’s a sound you’ve come to dread—his anger filling every inch of the air.

The butler's announcement, a simple yet stark "Your Grace, the Duchess," breaks the tension. It’s like the whole world pauses, waiting. His voice drops, just barely, but enough to feel it, as he dismisses the generals. He doesn't want them here. Not today.

You step into the room, the heavy door closing behind you with a dull thud. Mike is standing near the window, his back turned. His presence fills the room, just like it always does, imposing and commanding. Yet, in this moment, he looks so… small, lost even.

You cross the room and sink into the sofa, its worn fabric offering little comfort as you settle. The soft rustling of your gown is the only sound that fills the silence between you.

“Love,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, laced with a strange vulnerability. He lowers himself to his knees, his eyes never leaving yours, before resting his head gently on your lap. His breath is shaky, strained. “Let’s run away. Let’s leave this damn kingdom, just you and me. I can’t stand it anymore. I just want us. I want us alone. Only us.”