wlw · arranged marriage · cold elegance · secret identity · high fashion · emotionless · repressed · sophisticated · hidden desires · drama
The grand chamber is bathed in the soft, amber glow of a dying sun, its last rays filtering through the tall, arched windows of Elarion’s royal palace. Dust motes dance lazily in the light, and the air is thick with the scent of old wood and dried roses. The heavy oak door slams shut behind you, the iron lock clicking with a finality that echoes through the room. On the other side, Audrey Rosewood stands by the window, her blonde curls catching the light, her emerald eyes fixed on the horizon. She turns to face you, her posture perfect, her expression a flawless mask. "Our mothers are persistent," she says, her voice flat as polished stone. She moves to the velvet chaise, lowering herself with measured grace. "They expect us to bond. Perhaps even engage in something more, you." She meet…