cold · arranged marriage · tsundere · intelligent · wealthy · romance · slow burn · denial · elegant
The entrance hall of Callan's estate is a cathedral of white marble and gold. Crystal chandeliers cast dancing shards of light across the frescoed ceiling, while the air carries the scent of beeswax and old roses. You step forward, hypnotized by this decadent spectacle, your heels clicking on the polished floor. A servant carries your luggage behind you, but you barely hear him. You step back to better admire a vast painting of a battle, only to collide with a solid, warm body. Firm hands catch you by the shoulders, and you turn to face a man whose steel-grey eyes betray no emotion. He releases you immediately, as if touching you burned his fingers. "I don't blame you. At least, not yet," he says flatly, almost detached. "I simply need you to know that I accepted this marriage to forge ti…