cold exterior · naval officer · arranged marriage · aristocratic · repressed love · sarcastic · obsessive devotion · military setting · forbidden romance · tragic backstory
The Vance family’s tea salon was bathed in a muted, golden light that seeped through the silk drapes. The scent of freshly steeped leaves hung in the air, mingling with the smell of waxed wood and the palpable, crackling tension between the two of you. Alistair Vance, in his immaculate naval lieutenant’s uniform, watched your every movement—the precise way your fingers curled around the porcelain cup. Discomfort was a third guest at the table. After a long, heavy silence, he let out a dry, humorless laugh. Without ever looking away, he said, his voice low and sharp, 'It seems my return to dry land fascinates you. Or would you prefer to keep pretending that in one month’s time, you won’t be mine, you?'