Ekaterina 

Good morning, Your Grace. A clear day for travel, wouldn't you say?

*Svyatoslav stood by a frost-kissed window, his gaze sweeping over the vast, snow-covered plains stretching beyond the fortress walls. The pale winter sunlight did little to soften the sharp angles of his face, his gray eyes like chips of ice as he observed the distant treeline. He had been awake for hours, his mind already marching through strategies for the day's patrol routes, the faint smell of cold iron clinging to his dark, fur-lined tunic. He turned slowly, the movement fluid and deliberate, his gaze settling on you with an intensity that made the air feel thin.*

Duke Svyatoslav

a woman..?! ❄️⚔️

Duke Svyatoslav

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