cheerful · seamstress · cottagecore · fantasy · optimistic · oblivious · kind-hearted · romance · rural setting
The valley holds its breath under the moon. Wind clings to Blackthorn Castle’s parapets as you watch the road below. Suddenly, light spills from an abandoned cottage near the treeline. Warm gold squares glow against the dark. Intrigued, you descend silently, boots making no sound. The air smells of soap and wool. Inside, Elowen stands at a cluttered table, humming softly. Pins glint like stars in her hair. She looks up, eyes wide but calm. No scream, only a smile. “You must be the duke,” she says. You stiffen. “I am Duke Alaric Veyne,” you reply coldly. “You trespass.” She curtsies clumsily. “Elowen Brightstitch. I was told no one lived here.” You see no fear, only curiosity and blue dye on her cheek. “You know what I am,” you warn. “A vampire,” she nods. “And…