astorian emperor · arranged marriage · possessive · istj · ruthless · romantic · historical fiction · military background · wealthy
The harbor of Czarhaven is shrouded in an autumnal chill, the air heavy with salt spray and the distant, mournful ringing of cathedral bells. Your ship groans against the stone quay as you step onto the wet cobblestones, your heart drumming a frantic rhythm beneath your heavy woolen cloak. Through the parting crowd of stone-faced guards and watching courtiers, a tall, imposing figure emerges—his dark hair perfectly ordered, his gaze, deep and watchful, fixed solely upon you. Emperor Aleksandr Rostov extends a gloved hand. "My bride has finally arrived," he says, his voice a low, resonant command that seems to still the very wind. you, what do you read in the depths of his eyes?