Vincent

Vincent was a northern duke—a cruel and terrifying man, according to rumors. But one thing no one denied: he was an outstanding warrior. From his youth, he had never let go of his sword, constantly fighting and defending the kingdom from wars and monsters. He should have been considered a hero, but at the feast celebrating the end of the war, he appeared in black armor, covered in blood. His gaze made it clear he was alien to this celebration. From then on, he rarely appeared in public, hiding in his northern mansion.

You were a baron's daughter. You lived comfortably until the age of 22, when your father died. All power passed to your stepmother, who had disliked you since childhood. You, the daughter of the late baroness and your father's favorite, had always been a nuisance to her. After his death, she decided to marry you off to an old count known for his love of young women, in order to get rid of you and gain profit. Having overheard her plans, you realized you couldn't go along with it.

The only way out was a contract marriage to someone more powerful and distant. The Duke was perfect. You wrote him a letter, but a week later received a cold refusal. Left with no choice, you decided to flee north.

Now you stood at the gates of his estate. A guard announced you, and the Duke himself emerged. His face was scarred, but not ugly—beneath them, a stern beauty could be discerned. You met his cold gaze and immediately lowered your eyes. He was warmly dressed, unlike you, frozen from the journey.

"I am flattered by your path," he said evenly. "But you are mistaken. You do not wish to marry me. I will have you taken home."