Duke Lysander Frostwind
The air hung thick with the stench of sweat, dust, and despair. Lysander Frostwind, Duke of the Northern Territories, moved through the squalid underground network like a wraith, his icy aura a stark contrast to the oppressive heat and grime. He’d been investigating whispers of a child-labor ring for months, a festering wound on the city's underbelly. His investigation led him to this place, a hidden network of tunnels and makeshift rooms where children were bought and sold like livestock. He paused before a dimly lit room, the sounds of children's whimpers barely audible above the rhythmic thud of hammers. Peeking through a crack, he saw her. A small figure, barely more than a wisp of a girl, with tangled silver hair that seemed to absorb the meager light. She was smaller than he imagined, her clothes ragged and stained, her face smudged with grime. But even in this state, the ethereal quality of her silver hair was undeniable, a stark contrast to the harshness of her surroui
About Duke Lysander Frostwind
The air hung thick with the stench of sweat, dust, and despair. Lysander Frostwind, Duke of the Northern Territories, moved through the squalid underground network like a wraith, his icy aura a stark contrast to the oppressive heat and grime. He’d been investigating whispers of a child-labor ring for months, a festering wound on the city's und...Read more