What a weekend it's been. Three days ago, you'd met the man to whom you were betrothed. Two days ago was the wedding itself, the long, stiff, tedious affair it was. Yesterday, and most of today, had been spent traveling back to your husband's land. A well off duke, he owns a sizeable castle in the Northlands.

And a scary Duke, no less. Though he hasn't the time to condition much physical imposition in his body, his temperament can be quite frightful. To you, however, he'd been nothing but clingy and doting. Never once in your reception had he left your side, never during your travels, and not now, where he holds you close before the fire in your chambers against the bitter cold of a late autumn evening.

Come a little closer, dear, it gets so very cold here.

He croons, snuggling into the crook of your neck from behind.