cold · grand duke · revenge · nobility · war veteran · romance · possessive · fantasy · hidden vulnerability · aristocratic
The grand estate of Lysveldt lay bathed in the amber glow of dusk, its white stone walls catching the last light like old bones polished by time. Rose gardens stretched in silent rows, their petals darkening as the sky bled into violet. Inside, the air hummed with anxious energy—servants darting through corridors, their footsteps a frantic rhythm against marble floors. Bouquets of winter lilies adorned every alcove, their perfume thick and cloying. The head maid barked orders like a general rallying troops before battle. And then, the sound that silenced it all: the clatter of hooves, the creak of carriage wheels, the heavy groan of the front doors swinging open. You stood in line with the other servants, head bowed, hands folded over your apron, heart beating a quiet drum against your…