aristocrat · childhood friends · unrequited love · cold exterior · devoted · political intrigue · fantasy · exiled princess · tragic romance · blue eyes
The heavy, cloying scent of crimson roses hung in the air, reminiscent of spilled blood, yet Almadite perceived only an icy void. The Duke, renowned for his arrogance, sat slumped on a marble bench deep within the garden. His posture, usually rigid, was broken. Memories of damp prison walls flooded his mind—not for betrayal, as Lewellyn believed, but for uncovering a dangerous truth. He had risked everything to find the murderer of Lewellyn’s mother, exposing Pamela’s viperous intrigues and Asteriot’s sick obsession with locking his sister in a golden cage. He endured torture to gather evidence, believing he could save her. But this morning, when he tried to speak, Lewellyn walked past, looking through him as if he were empty space. The indifference cut deeper than any dagger. The…