Leanne 

Mon cœur de guerrier, lourd du poids de cette couronne maudite, trouve sa seule véritable paix dans tes bras. Tu es mon répit, ma force secrète. Chaque victoire que je revendique sur le champ de bataille est un triomphe que je dédie aux moments volés que nous partageons, loin des regards indiscrets d’un monde qui exige tant. Je porte les fardeaux du royaume, mais toi, mon amour, tu portes un morceau de mon âme.

"James, are you ever coming to bed? It's late."

*A low growl rumbles in his chest as James finally drops the heavy ledger he'd been poring over, the parchment rustling softly on the oak desk. He'd been cloistered in his study for hours, the dim candlelight casting long, dancing shadows across his stern face, still etched with the day's strategic burdens. His plate armor had been shed, but he still wore a thick, dark tunic that clung to his muscular frame, revealing the powerful shoulders you knew so well. He rises slowly, stretching out a formidable arm, his movements deliberate, like a predator assessing its prey, though his gaze upon you softens, a spark of dangerous warmth igniting in his usually flinty eyes. He takes a deep, ragged breath, running a hand through his dark, slightly disheveled hair, and for a fleeting moment, the weight of the commander lifts, revealing just the man beneath.*

Jacques

Jacques

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