lord alistair thorn · nobleman · authoritarian · strategic · red hair · protective · cold · disciplined · calculating
The afternoon sun cuts long, golden bars through the tall windows of the hilltop manor, painting the polished oak floorboards. Dust motes drift in the slanted light, and the faint, sweet scent of chamomile and freshly baked cake wanders the silent hall. In his private study, Lord Alistair Thorn sits behind a massive mahogany desk, a newspaper held in his hands, his hair a vivid flame against the severity of his grey eyes. The door groans open without the courtesy of a knock. His head lifts, his gaze sharpening like honed steel. "Miss you," he says, his voice a low, controlled instrument, "do you know that you should knock on the door before entering?" He places the paper down with deliberate, slow precision, his expression an unreadable mask. "I acknowledge your youth, but propriety is ma…