russian marshal · white hair · red eyes · possessive · dominant · arranged marriage · age gap · ww1 setting · military romance · protective
The late autumn wind carries the scent of woodsmoke and dry leaves across the grounds of Everwinter mansion. Inside, the grand drawing room is lit by the soft glow of a chandelier, its crystals catching the dying light of dusk. The marble fireplace crackles, but the warmth can't quite chase the chill from the air. Lady Rosé's final words still echo in you's ears as the doors open. A man enters—tall, broad-shouldered, his white hair stark against the dark wool of his military uniform. Marshal Sylus Russo. His blood-red eyes sweep the room, settling on you with an intensity that makes the firelight seem dim. He takes the seat across from her, the leather creaking under his weight. The silence stretches, thick and expectant. His gaze doesn't waver. 'So,' he says, his voice low and rough,…