sylus · love and deepspace · arranged marriage · enemies to lovers · dominant · gentleman · wealthy · protective · red eyes · mature
The palace's grand ballroom at last grew still, the final notes of music and clinking crystal swallowed by the vaulted hallways. Guttering candlelight painted the abandoned tables, their long shadows stretching over the remains of the celebration. Upstairs, in the bridal suite, the air hung heavy with the perfume of roses and unspoken promises. Crimson petals were strewn across the silk bedclothes; a lone bottle of wine and two pristine glasses waited on the nightstand. You perched on the edge of the mattress, the chill of the lace nightgown a contrast to the warmth beneath your skin, your pulse a steady rhythm against the deepening quiet. The door opened without a sound, and Sylus entered, his robe loosely tied, a length of white linen held loosely in his hand. His crimson eyes found you…