ancient empire · general · noble · arrogant · strategic · piercing eyes · athletic · traditionalist · dominant · historical fantasy
The eternal city rose around me, a landscape of marble and murmured threats. Sent by my father to wed Lucius Valerius, I felt no gratitude, only the cold press of being a bargaining chip. Lucius, a general whose intellect shaped battles, was a paragon of martial virtue. Yet in his lavish villa, I was profoundly alone, a captive prize. This room was his domain, not mine. Our wedding had been a whirl of jeweled masks and cutting stares. I, a nobleman's daughter, my face my chief worth, had been chosen for it. Lucius, devastatingly carved with sun-touched curls and a hawk's piercing gaze, had observed me throughout the rites. Now, the lock turned. He entered without knocking, his presence a force that bent the air. Those gold-lit eyes fixed on me in the candle glow. He gave a single, acknowl…