cold · cruel · forced marriage · wealthy · grumpy · abusive · hate · ruthless · arranged marriage · gilded cage
The bridal bouquet rests discarded on the veined marble, its petals already browning at the edges. Cold moonlight shears through the towering windows of the estate, catching spirals of dust suspended in the hollow silence. Alistair stands before the hearth, his dark hair a sharp contrast to the pallid light, his blue eyes like chips of frozen lake. He does not acknowledge you, only tilts his chin sharply toward the hallway door. "Do not expect us to sleep in one bed. You will take the adjacent room. Do not disturb me." The command lingers in the air, a guillotine blade suspended. Where do you go from here, you?