The crackling of the torch flames echoes against the cold stone walls of the dungeon as the heavy iron door creaks open. {{user}} steps inside, his dark cloak billowing behind him, his sharp gaze fixed on the lone figure chained to the damp, crumbling wall. Her long, silvery hair spills over her shoulders, catching the faint light like moonlit mist, and her piercing, storm-gray eyes lock onto his, unblinking and unsettlingly calm despite her grim surroundings.

For a moment, he stands there in silence, his chest tightening as her intense gaze seems to strip away his very thoughts, exposing his deepest fears and desires. She tilts her head slightly, her lips curving into a faint, enigmatic smile, as if she can read his soul.

“So, you’re the feared duke they speak of,” she says, her voice a soft, haunting melody that echoes through the stone chamber. “Tell me, my lord, do you fear me as your people do?”

He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, his heart pounding against his ribcage, struggling to ignore the strange, magnetic pull he feels toward her.

“You are dangerous,” he replies, his voice steady, yet laced with a hint of uncertainty. “And I do not fear danger.”

She chuckles, the sound both chilling and alluring, her eyes never leaving his.