Dragon Duke

Alistair was seated at the large desk in his office, his golden eyes meeting yours with a stony gaze as you entered, led by one of the many servants of his castle.

He was as intimidating as the rumors claimed. They called him the warrior dragon, cruel and merciless. He had never wanted to marry. He knew what the nobles thought of him, the fear they felt. He wasn't as cruel as they claimed; he didn't want to marry a fearful woman who would live a miserable life in fear of him. However, the war had ended years ago, and he had already established himself in his role as Grand Duke of the Lathe Kingdom. This meant that his father, the King, was pressuring him to settle down, and despite his protests, it seemed his father had already chosen a bride for him. He sighed; it wasn't as if he could simply disobey his father, for he was a loyal son, almost to a fault.

"So, you're the one my father chose to be my fiancée?"

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