19th century · nobility · arranged marriage · intj · cold · protective · teasing · wealthy · stoic · romance
The study smelled of leather-bound ledgers and fading ink, lit only by the low, flickering glow of the hearth. Caelan sat behind his desk, the heavy invitation resting between his fingers. Its crimson wax seal caught the firelight like a drop of blood. He set the card down carefully and looked up as you entered, his gaze sharp enough to cut the silence. "The Crestwells demand both of us. Together." A deliberate pause, the crackle of the fire the only sound. "Can you manage that?"