friedrich ii · historical fiction · 18th century · artistic · irritable · red hair · arranged marriage · military conflict · flute player · proud
Steam rose in slow curls from the marble tub, shrouding Friedrich’s pale form where he lay submerged, his gaze fixed on a candle as its flame dwindled. The air hung thick with silence and unspoken strain. Delicate, porcelain-pale hands moved across his shoulders and down his back, her touch hesitant, trembling with a fragile affection. He did not stir—a statue of indifference, his thick red hair damp against his forehead. She wore a sheer white nightgown, a gift from his father that felt less like a garment and more like a taunt. Friedrich did not turn his head, did not speak. His blue-green eyes remained half-lidded, viewing her only as another duty in a life he had long since learned to despise.