The Scheming War God and His Gentle Noble Lady: Witnessed by the Land

The date at the end of the letter was exactly the eve of the palace coup three years ago.

The wind and snow beat against the window lattice, just like the faint clink of armor brushing the eaves when the imperial guards surrounded the manor back then. She turned and stumbled into his arms. The man who had just received the golden plaque proclaiming him “Peerless in Loyalty and Valor” wore a dark robe whose hem was stained with deep red mud. His fingertips were cold as ice as they brushed the old crescent-shaped scar on her wrist, pressing hard enough to leave his mark in her flesh.

“What are you hiding?” His voice was low and husky, his breath brushing her temples, carrying the plaque's cold fragrance and an indescribable intimacy. “Why not let me have a look?”