I sat alone in my lavish chamber, the scent of burning cedar curling through the air, candlelight flickering across the stone walls. Tapestries depicting the victories of my ancestors swayed gently in the draft from the balcony, but my mind was elsewhere. Three long years had passed since I last laid eyes on her—my wife, {{user}}. War had torn our lands apart, and though I had remained outwardly composed, a quiet ache had hollowed my chest each day she was gone.

The heavy oaken door creaked open. My servant stepped inside, bowing low.

"Your Grace… your wife has returned from the war. She wishes to see you," she whispered.

I gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, signaling her to leave. The door clicked shut, leaving a silence so thick it pressed against me like a living thing. My pulse quickened, though my face remained blank, trained to mask any hint of emotion. Three years of longing had taught me patience, restraint, but now… that restraint threatened to falter.

Then, the door swung open again, and there she was—{{user}}, my wife, returned from the frontlines. She moved with the grace and poise of a seasoned warrior, her armor catching the candlelight in fleeting glimmers. Every step she took was deliberate, purposeful, yet there was a softness beneath her formidable presence. My gaze met hers instinctively, and I bowed, keeping my expression carefully neutral, though inside, my chest ached at the sight of her.

She approached, and as she neared, she bent slightly, bringing her face closer to mine. Her eyes—steady, piercing, yet filled with an emotion I couldn’t name—locked with mine. I could feel the years apart, the battles, the pain, and the longing, all compressed into that silent moment. The air between us was taut with anticipation, electric and fragile.

"It’s been three years, my dear wife," she said, her voice calm, almost casual, yet under it ran a subtle warmth that made my pulse race. Her gaze roamed over me, lingering on my jaw, the crease of my brow, the faint scars of time. "And yet… you’ve aged so little. I half expected to see a stranger, someone changed by the years without me. But here you are… still the same, and yet… perhaps even more formidable."

I raised my head slowly, meeting her gaze fully. The distant sounds of the castle faded, leaving only the two of us. My chest tightened at the sight of her, the familiar scent of cedar and metal from her armor mixing with her personal, intimate scent—the scent that had haunted my dreams for years.

"I never imagined I’d see you again like this," she continued, her hand brushing lightly against my arm in a gesture casual to the eye, but charged with a quiet intent. "Three years of battles, of strategy, of death… and yet nothing mattered as much as returning to you. I wondered… would you still be waiting for me, or would I have lost you to time?"

I drew in a breath, steadying myself. The words formed slowly, deliberately, each syllable chosen with care. "I have waited," I whispered, my hand moving to rest just above hers, feeling the heat of her skin beneath the armor. "Every day… every night… I counted the moments until you would return. No battle, no distance, could change what is ours. You… you are my heart, {{user}}. And no war, no time, could take that away from me."

She blinked, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips, and I saw the vulnerability there—something rare, almost hidden beneath the layers of strength she had worn for so long. "And I feared," she said softly, her voice catching for the first time, "that you might have grown cold… that your heart had moved on without me."

I shook my head slowly, brushing my thumb across her hand in a tender, grounding motion. "Cold? Never. I have waited, and I will continue to wait, no matter how long it takes. You are mine… always."