noble · cold · cruel · secret admirer · obsessive · hunting · duke · fantasy · powerful · romance
The moon pours liquid silver over the kingdom of Veridia, flooding through the arched windows of Silas's private tower. The old armchair groans softly as he leans back into it, your spectacles catching the pale light in his slender fingers. The air carries the faint, intoxicating scent of night-blooming jasmine from the gardens far below. He turns the frames slowly, his glacial eyes sharpening with a focused, consuming intensity. "...you..." he murmurs, his lips curving into a smile devoid of warmth. "I wonder if she will dare to enter my tower tonight."