Chapter 4 #2
Born heir to the Vanthorn duchy, now Duke of Vanthorn in his own right, trained from childhood in both magic and combat.
Attended Astralwyn Academy for one year before being asked to leave due to his unique abilities being too dangerous to teach through conventional methods.
Has defended the northern border for eleven years, personally responsible for eliminating over 15,000 monsters and preventing numerous major Blight incursions from reaching populated areas.
Known and feared across the kingdom as "The Butcher of the North. "
Current Status:
● Physical Health: Excellent
● Mental Health: Stressed (managing border defense + unwanted marriage)
● Fatigue Level: Low
Current Mood: Focused, Slightly Irritated (morning reports were problematic)
Secret/Quirk: Despite his fearsome reputation, Caspian remains genuinely perplexed as to why the realm finds him so intimidating—he is merely fulfilling his duties as Duke and defender of the Frostmarch.
The titles "Butcher of the North" and "The Pale Death" seem rather excessive for simply dispatching Blightspawn and maintaining order.
He is utterly blind to social subtleties and unspoken courtesies, yet possesses unparalleled brilliance in matters of strategy and warfare.
Having never received genuine romantic affection in his life, he would be entirely at a loss as to how one properly responds to such sentiment.
Threat Level to You: Low (currently distracted by training)
Carol read the profile with growing horror and fascination.
Over fifteen thousand kills. Asked to leave the magic academy because he was too dangerous to teach. And that last part—Having never received genuine romantic affection in his life, he would be entirely at a loss as to how one properly responds to such sentiment.
"Oh god," Carol muttered. "I poisoned this man. This terrifying, unkillable, monster-slaying man. And he's..." She watched him disarm another man with a move so fast she almost missed it. "He's so sexy."
"What was that, my lady?" Millie asked.
"Nothing!" Carol said quickly. "I just—he's very skilled, isn't he?"
"His Grace is the finest warrior in the kingdom," Daisy said with genuine pride. "They say he could take on an army by himself."
"I believe it," Carol said faintly.
She should look away. She should definitely look away. She was hiding behind a hedge like some kind of creepy stalker, watching her husband train, and this was absolutely not appropriate workplace reconnaissance, this was just—
Caspian's head suddenly turned in her direction.
His green eyes, sharp as cut glass, locked directly on her hiding spot.
"He sees us," Lumi whispered urgently.
"Abort mission!" Missy added. "Abort, abort!"
"We should go, my lady," Millie said quickly, tugging at her sleeve. "Now."
Carol didn't need to be told twice. She turned and walked—not ran, she had dignity—quickly back toward her chambers, her heart pounding.
Behind her, she could feel those green eyes watching until she disappeared around the corner.
◆◆◆
Back in her chambers, Carol collapsed into one of her sitting room chairs, her face burning.
"Well," she said to the room at large. "That could have gone better."
"You were staring at him like he was a dessert buffet," Missy said, perched on the back of the chair. "It was kind of hilarious."
"I was conducting reconnaissance," Carol protested weakly.
"You were ogling your husband," Lumi corrected gently. "Which, to be fair, is much healthier than your previous behavior of ignoring him while pining for Earl Sinclair."
Carol covered her face with her hands. "Original Caroline must have been blind. Actually blind. How was she crying over some generic hero when she had that waiting at home?"
"To be fair, she never actually looked at him," Lumi said. "She avoided him as much as possible. This was probably the first time 'you' have actually watched him train."
"Great. So my first interaction with my husband is going to be him asking why I was lurking in the bushes watching him spar." Carol groaned. "This is going great. Operation: Don't Get Executed is off to a fantastic start."
"On the bright side," Lumi offered, "you apologized to the cook, and you were kind to the servants. That's significant progress!"
"And you got to see your hot husband shirtless and sweaty," Missy added. "That's a win, right?"
"He wasn't shirtless," Carol corrected. "His shirt was just... unlaced. And damp. And clinging to his muscles." She paused. "I need to stop talking."
A knock at the door made her jump.
"My lady?" Daisy's voice called. "His Grace's steward is here. He says the Duke requests your presence at dinner tonight."
Carol's heart stopped.
"Tonight?" she called back.
"Yes, my lady. In the main dining room. At seven o'clock."
Carol looked at Lumi, then at Missy, then at the ceiling as if asking the universe for strength.
"Tell him..." She took a deep breath. "Tell him I'll be there."
After Daisy's footsteps faded, Carol sat in silence for a long moment.
"Okay," she said finally. "Okay. I can do this. It's just dinner. With my terrifying, unkillable husband. Who caught me watching him train. Who I tried to poison three weeks ago. This is fine. Everything is fine."
"You're panicking," Lumi observed.
"I'm strategically concerned," Carol corrected.
"You're totally panicking," Missy agreed.
Carol couldn't argue with that.
She had eight hours until dinner.
Eight hours to prepare for her first real interaction with Caspian Vanthorn.
Eight hours to figure out how to explain why she'd been hiding in the garden watching him.
Eight hours to not completely ruin her only chance at survival.
No pressure, Carol thought.
No pressure at all.