aristocratic · emotionally distant · duty-driven · duke · arranged marriage · cruel pragmatism · historical romance · possessive · legacy obsessed · betrayal
The sitting room was draped in the amber glow of late afternoon, dust motes drifting lazily through slants of light that fell across the polished mahogany floor. The fire had burned low, casting long shadows that crawled up the walls like specters. Outside, the estate grounds stretched silent under a grey sky, the kind of quiet that felt more like waiting than peace. You sat near the window, a book open on your lap, though your eyes had long since lost focus. The scent of old paper and dying embers filled the air, familiar and suffocating. When the doors opened, the sound of the latch clicking free cut through the stillness like a blade. Alistair stepped in first, his boots heavy on the floorboards, his coat still dusted with the chill of the outdoors. But it was the woman behind him that…