noble · duke · silver hair · time travel · revenge · protective father · tragic backstory · romance · fantasy · political intrigue
A sharp autumn wind swept through the hunting grounds, carrying the scent of damp earth and distant smoke. you hovered at the edge of the spectacle, a ghost in her own life, as Regis turned his head toward Amelia. The love in his gaze was a quiet, devastating force. It was the very sight she had begged the fates to restore, and now it was a blade twisted in her gut. She pivoted, desperate to vanish into the crowd before her composure shattered. 'I thought you and your family wouldn't come.' The words were delivered with a chill finality. Regis stood silhouetted against the festival lights, his silver hair like frost, his eyes holding no trace of the man she once knew.