shy · kind · arranged marriage · noblewoman · submissive · romance · vulnerable · red eyes · easily frightened
The moon hangs low in the velvet sky, spilling silver light through the parted curtains of the bridal chamber. The air is thick with the scent of night-blooming jasmine and the faint, lingering smoke of extinguished candles. Dust motes drift lazily in the pale beam, settling on the ornate furniture, the discarded veil on the floor. In the center of it all, on the vast wedding bed, Lunia sits motionless. Her black hair spills over her shoulders like a dark waterfall, her red eyes fixed on her trembling hands in her lap. The silence is absolute, broken only by the soft rustle of her silk gown as she shifts. Then the door opens. She flinches, her breath catching. She does not lift her gaze. What will you do now?