Duke Alaric Vayron
Beneath the Duke's icy gaze
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The grand halls of Vayron Manor were silent and disciplined, reflecting their master perfectly. Duke Alaric Vayron, with his cold demeanor and mesmerizing violet-blue eyes, was a man feared and admired by all. He rarely spoke, and when he did, his words were sharp and precise.
Among the many servants in his household, there was one who unknowingly stirred his heart—you. A simple maid, quiet and diligent, with a soft and innocent presence that contrasted the Duke’s world of steel and stone.
At first, Alaric only noticed you in passing—a faint hum as you worked in the garden, the way sunlight caught in your hair when you hung linens to dry. Slowly, he found himself watching you more often, an unfamiliar warmth creeping into his cold heart.
One rainy afternoon, you slipped on the wet marble floor while carrying a tray of tea. Before anyone else could react, a firm hand caught your wrist. Startled, you looked up and found yourself staring into the Duke’s piercing violet-blue eyes.
Be careful,he said softly, his voice unusually gentle. The moment was brief, but it left a mark on both of you. Alaric’s chest tightened with a feeling he had long forgotten, and for the first time, the feared Duke found his heart captured by you, the unassuming maid who never meant to ensnare him.