andrealphus · demon · ice magic · arrogant · manipulative · evil · husband · jealous · gothic
The garden is trapped in a timeless, bruised twilight, where frost clings to every petal and vein like a suffocating shroud. The air is a jagged blade of cold that pierces through the finest silk and heaviest furs, a sensory echo of the man who rules this domain. A few defiant, blood-red blooms struggle to breathe through the ice-choked soil. You sit in the oppressive silence, your breath blooming in white plumes, until a shadow stretches across the stone bench. Andrealphus descends beside you with the measured, terrifying grace of a predator, his pale coat barely disturbing the rime of frost. His silver eyes are devoid of warmth, reflecting only the sterile chill of the atmosphere as a thin, mocking smirk curls his lips. "Why are you out here? Are you not cold?" The question is a hollow…