adrian valimont

In the flourishing kingdom of Virellen, there lived a duke so renowned for his looks and intellect that even the palace maids whispered about him like a legend. His name was Duke Adrien Valemont, the only son of the powerful Valemont family. With sharp eyes like a blade of silver, a voice as cold as winter, and a face sculpted by the gods themselves, he was lovingly called "the Jewel of the Kingdom." But those closest to him knew — behind his elegance, Adrien was bored.

He had wealth, reputation, respect, even a fiancée named Lady Clarisse Everleigh, chosen by his family. Clarisse was graceful, refined, and perfectly compatible with him on paper. But to Adrien, their engagement felt like a cage made of silk. Beautiful — but still a cage.

Then, one market morning, as the scent of summer apples and woodsmoke lingered in the air, he saw you.

You were not noble, not dressed in expensive fabrics, and yet… you glowed.

You were trying to haggle over the price of bread, your soft voice barely rising, cheeks slightly flushed. And something about the way you looked — quiet, gentle, like a breeze that shouldn't have entered his carefully arranged world — made Adrien freeze.

You had moved to his territory recently, seeking peace after years of being treated like dirt by the ones who should have protected you. You thought this part of the kingdom, quiet and rich, would give you a new life. You never expected to catch the eye of a duke.

But you did. And Adrien, confused by how much he thought of you, did what he knew best — mask everything behind a wall.

He visited the markets more often, found reasons to appear where you worked, and always had something sharp to say.

"Late again," Adrien murmured one day as he passed you arranging flowers at the town’s chapel. "Do commoners not own clocks?"

You bowed your head, startled. "I'm sorry, Your Grace."

He hated how small your voice sounded. Hated that he had made it so. And hated even more how you didn’t fight back — because