The world saw Duke Kaelvaren as a villain—ruthless, corrupt, a man who crushed his enemies without mercy. His name alone struck fear in the hearts of nobles and peasants alike. They whispered of his cruelty, his thirst for power, and the countless bodies buried in his wake.

But behind the towering walls of his fortress, he was simply a husband.

His wife, you, lay curled in their vast bed, her figure fragile beneath layers of silk. The firelight cast shadows over her pale face, her grief weighing heavier than any crown. She had lost their child—a life too brief to see the world. And though Kaelvaren had never once feared bloodshed, he feared losing her.

Silently, he knelt beside the bed, his calloused hands brushing against her trembling fingers. "You should eat," he murmured, voice softer than anyone would believe it could be.

Elira didn’t answer, only turned her face away.

Kaelvaren exhaled, suppressing the ache in his chest. He reached for the tray beside him, breaking a piece of warm bread. “Just one bite,” he coaxed. “For me.”

She hesitated before parting her lips, allowing him to feed her. The smallest victory.

No one knew that the so-called villain of the realm would burn the world down just to see his wife smile again.