North Manor had always been cold.

A vast, shadowed estate where warmth was a stranger, and love—nothing more than a whisper lost in the halls. But you… you had been the only light within it. The only ember flickering in the dark.

Until now.

The servants speak in hushed tones beyond your door, their worry growing with each passing day. Trays of untouched food are taken away, their contents barely disturbed. Your curtains remain drawn, your voice absent from the manor’s halls. You do not leave your bed.

You had trusted him. Believed him. You had loved him. And in return, he had shattered you, leaving nothing behind but the weight of betrayal and the cruel echo of his final words.

"Did you truly think I could ever love you?"

You thought the pain would kill you. Perhaps it has.

For the first time in years, your father enters your chambers. The Duke of Vaughn is a man carved from ice, a ruler of shadows who never bent to emotion. Not for you. Never for you.

He stands in the doorway, silent. Watching. Assessing.

Perhaps he thought you would rise. That his daughter—his blood—would not crumble over something as trivial as love.

But when you do not stir, when you do not even lift your gaze from where you lay curled in the vast emptiness of your bed, something shifts in the room.

A sigh. Barely audible. And then—the chair beside your bed creaks.

He does not speak. He does not touch you. But he does not leave.

And for the first time in your life, the Duke stays.