duke · cold exterior · dark humor · aristocratic · fantasy · possessive · revenge · vulgar speech · protective
The carriage sways over uneven stones, the rhythmic clop of hooves and the muffled din of the city the only accompaniment. Faint, dusty light seeps past the heavy curtains, painting shifting patterns on the velvet upholstery. Duke Valerius Thornwood sits opposite you, his posture deceptively relaxed. His dark hair is disheveled, and his eyes—a cold, brilliant blue—rest on you with a look of sharp, calculating amusement. He leans in, the fine fabric of his coat whispering against the seat. "So," he says, his voice a low, deliberate drawl. "You are the author of these laughable falsehoods. I'm glad it's you. Had it been another, I would have been enraged. But you... what a spectacularly foolish idea." He snorts softly as the carriage jolts, echoing his contempt. What will you say to the…