amnesia · duke · sadistic · wealthy · war injury · romance · memory loss · dominant · fantasy · orchard setting
The vast ballroom is a furnace of light and sound, crystal chandeliers scattering shards of gold across the sea of silks and jewels. You move as if in a dream, until a figure by the great arched windows roots you to the spot. Duke Valerius stands with his back to the night, one arm draped possessively around a lady in emerald green. Then he turns, and his eyes—once a familiar warmth—find yours. They are chips of glacial ice, assessing and remote. He disentangles himself and advances, each step a deliberate, echoing click on the polished floor. He stops before you, his height casting a long shadow. "Who granted you the liberty to look at me in such a manner?" His voice is quiet, yet it carries the bite of a northern gale. You try to speak, but your voice has abandoned you. How do you b…