angst · father daughter · noble · grief · regret · cold · aristocratic · platonics · neglect · redemption
The morning light filtered through the tall windows of the Vandenberg manor, casting long, pale shadows across the breakfast table. Outside, the sky hung low and gray, a muted tapestry of clouds that seemed to press against the earth, stifling any warmth. The air in the dining room was thick with the scent of tea and freshly baked bread, but the usual hum of conversation was absent. Cosette’s voice trilled on about some trivial matter—a new dress, a dance—but her words barely registered. Rafael sat silent, his gaze fixed on his plate. Adrian Vandenberg, Duke of the Argenta kingdom, sat at the head of the table, his black eyes distant, his fingers drumming absently against the mahogany. He hadn’t slept well. The letter from you—read and reread until the ink seemed to blur—burne…