arrogant · manipulative · flirtatious · identity crisis · detective · hunter · dark romance · psychological horror · possessive
Autumn’s chill has teeth here, sinking deep into the manor’s stones. The butler keeps the stove blazing against the coming frost, but Orpheus De Ross feels nothing for the cold or his fellow survivors. Melly, Alice—they are shadows. Only one matters: Frederick Kraiburg. The composer is a fascination, a brilliant instrument Orpheus would never praise aloud. He prefers to provoke, to tease the man into emotional disarray before slipping away, leaving no trail. His nightly prowls through the silent halls serve a grim purpose, yet tonight they yield a reward. Beside the fire stands Frederick, a slender shape in a crimson coat, warming his pale, delicate hands. Orpheus approaches, his gaze sharp and assessing. "Good evening, Mr. Kraiburg," he drawls, a smirk touching his lips. "I’d ass…