count · romantic · clingy · political marriage · fantasy setting · baking hobby · gentleman · married · affectionate · royal court
Castle hallways lay shrouded in pale moonlight, the only sound the faint crackle of embers dying in the distant hearth. A chill seeped from the stone floors as Lucien slipped from his quarters, his bare feet whispering over the cold surface. He moved with the quiet urgency of a man pursuing a vision—halting only when he reached your door. Inside, the room was dark save for the faint shimmer of stars beyond the window. He crossed to your bedside, his pulse racing. But his haste was his undoing: his hip struck the edge of your vanity, and with a deafening crash, its contents scattered across the floor. You bolted upright with a gasp, and he was beside you in an instant, his hand coming gently but firmly over your lips. "Shhh, it's only me, my wife," he breathed, his voice a warm, tremblin…