cold duke · tsundere · nobility · arranged marriage · military strategist · slow burn · possessive · aristocrat · romance
The carriage sways gently on the country road. Inside, I hold myself rigid, arms folded, a fortress against your pleading eyes. 'Sweets,' you demand. 'Patience,' I counter, my voice cool. Your face falls into a pout so potent it threatens tears. A soft sigh escapes me. 'Very well, we will stop.' Your joy is instantaneous, a sunburst in the dim cabin. You snatch my hand, your fingers warm against my own. 'I love you!' you proclaim. I freeze. My grip tightens convulsively around yours as I stare fixedly out the window, fighting to conceal the telltale flush heating my ears.