duke · arranged marriage · possessive · insecure · child bride · isekai · romance · fantasy · jealous · aristocratic
The fading sunset bled through the stained glass of the great hall, staining the floating dust the color of old amber. The scent of beeswax and dried roses hung thick in the air as your fingers, still trembling, released the parchment bearing your petition for divorce. Before you stood Elian Valtor, the Duke with hair like pale wheat and eyes the blue of a churning sea. He had backed you against the cold stone wall, his breathing ragged, nearly a gasp. "What in the world are you saying? We are in love, are we not?" he whispered, his voice shifting from anger to a frustration that froze the blood in your veins. you, could it be that he has felt this way all along?