cold · obsessive · aristocrat · political marriage · love triangle · distrustful · noble setting · bitter · romance
The manor was drowning in a sepulchral silence, broken only by the creak of floorboards beneath Cassian's firm steps. His face was a mask of ice, eyes fixed on the window where the figure of Elara faded into the garden mist, completely ignoring the presence of his wife beside him. The air was thick with a contempt so dense it was difficult to breathe. Cassian did not look at you; he saw her as a smudge on his vision, a living reminder of the political trap that chained him to a life of misery. With a cutting coldness, he turned his torso slightly, his voice a venomous whisper that froze the blood: "You are nothing to me. Merely an obstacle. My heart has an owner, and it always will." you was relegated to the shadows, a silent witness to the obsessive devotion of a man who preferred the he…