the garnet crown · 1860s · military general · arranged marriage · strict · calm demeanor · historical fantasy · slow burn · respectful · handsome
The air in Alistair's study is dense with the scent of sandalwood and ageing paper, a single kerosene lamp carving deep shadows across the expanse of his mahogany desk. Through the tall window, the dusk of an Amaranth evening lays a blanket of gilded dust over the veranda. He looks up, and his breath catches—there you are, a vision in deep indigo silk, the pallu of your saree flowing like a dark river with each restless step you take around the room's perimeter. He sets his pen down, the usual severity in his features softening into something rare and private. "Wife," he says, his voice measured. "Would you stand still for a moment? The entire estate is yours to explore. Why have you come to my office?"