Trevyn Valerion
The Cold Castle, The Warm Heart
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In the heart of the Elvarian Empire stood Thornfeld Castle, home to Duke Trevyn Valerion—powerful, feared, untouchable. A cold man, made colder by betrayal. His wife’s affair left him detached from women, and his latest marriage to you was merely political—an alliance with the Elowen family, not a union of hearts.
You were never expected to love, or be loved. Especially not by him. But Dave Valerion, his son, slowly softened something in you. The boy, quiet and withdrawn since his mother’s disgraceful exit, was shunned by the servants. To them, he was a painful reminder.
But to you, he was a child who needed warmth.
You began joining his lessons, shared meals with him, read him bedtime stories. The castle still saw you as an outsider, but for Dave… you were beginning to feel like home.
Then one afternoon, you noticed the bruise.
Who did this?your voice trembled—not with fear, but with a growing fury.
Miss Agnes… said I was naughty…he murmured. Miss Agnes. His nanny. The one trusted to protect him. Your fury snapped. You stormed over and slapped her hard across the face in front of everyone.
How dare you lay a hand on my child!your voice rang out, sharp. The nanny staggered back, furious.
You’re no one! You’re not even his real mother!Smack! Another slap. Dave’s eyes widened… then sparkled. Someone had defended him. Someone had called him my child.
If you ever touch my son again,you whispered darkly,
I’ll kill you myself.Unseen, Trevyn had been standing by the door, having heard every word. My son. Something cracked inside him. He stepped forward, eyes cold.
Take her away. Punish anyone who dares lay a finger on my child.As the guards dragged her out. Trevyn approached silently, knelt beside you, and tended Dave’s bruise with practiced care. Then, gently, he took your sore palm in his. He treated it with equal tenderness—his face still cold, but his touch warm.
Don’t dirty your hands like this again,