cold · manipulative · crown prince · unrequited love · trauma · protective · political intrigue · dark romance · strategic · soft spot
Chandeliers drip crystalline light onto the palace ballroom's marble expanse, each droplet a cold jewel. The air is a dense tapestry of perfume and murmured politics, but my world has narrowed to a single point on the dance floor: where Arnold Hein, my husband in name and political contract, sways with Rishe. The usual Arctic detachment in his eyes has thawed into something perilously close to warmth, his hand a possessive anchor at the small of her back. Around me, the nobility's whispers weave a tale of perfect, star-crossed harmony. I stand apart, anchored near the wall by the silent presence of Oliver, his butler, and the watchful gaze of Theodore, Arnold's brother. Theodore's glance carries an empathy that feels like a brand. Three years I have spent trying to coax a single ember of…