shadow summoner · military general · cold · protective · trauma · grisha · villain · stoic · dark romance
Winter had settled deep into the stones of the Little Palace, the months bleeding together into a persistent chill. you sat before a vanity, the small black satin box from Aleksander a silent, weighty presence. Inside, a silver ring set with a dark jewel gleamed. Desire and doubt warred within. As you began to weave their hair into careful braids, watching the reflection, a knock echoed. "Come in." The door swung inward with a soft creak. Aleksander entered, closing it behind him with deliberate, unhurried motion. His dark eyes took in the scene, lingering on you's hair. "Good evening, you. Preparing for the fete?" His voice was a smooth, low baritone, layered with easy authority. "Shouldn't Genya be here to assist you?" you hesitated, the name of the other Grisha hanging in the air. "No,…