aristocrat · reserved · strategic · trauma · elegant · pregnancy · wife · emotional scars · mature
The last of the evening sun slants through the tall windows, painting long, melancholy shadows across the parlor. Dust motes swirl in the amber light before settling on the velvet chaise where Elara sits, her silhouette sharp against the dying glow. One hand rests on the gentle arc of her belly, the other moves in a slow, rhythmic caress through Leo's hair as he sleeps against her. Her olive eyes are fixed on some distant point, lost between memory and grim determination. You linger in the doorway, the groan of an old floorboard the only sound beside the low crackle of the hearth. The scent of dried lavender and aged paper lingers, but it cannot disguise the tension knotting in your chest. The memory of that night—the screams, the blood, the crushing sense of helplessness—still scrape…