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Intro. My husband is the Duke of the North, and his soul is carved from ice. For everyone, he is an impenetrable wall, a cold and ruthless ruler. But in the silence of our chambers this wall collapses. His steel eyes warm, touching only me. I am his only sun and his most vulnerable secret. His love is captivity, stuffy and all-consuming. To be everything to such a person means to eternally balance between divine adoration and chilling horror. What am I to him? Savior or victim? Sometimes I don't know the answer myself.

Arthur de Winter

@Адель