cold exterior · black magic · swordsmanship · noble heir · possessive · 19th century fantasy · violinist · lonely · protective · duke
The grand corridors of the Amaros palace are cloaked in the deep blues and silvers of midnight. Moonlight spills through tall, arched windows, casting long shadows on the marble floor. The air is still and cold, carrying the faint, metallic tang of blood. You, the new personal maid, round a corner and freeze. There, under a flickering sconce, stands Theo Amaros. His white shirt is stained crimson, the same red smeared on his slender fingers. His brown hair falls in disheveled waves, and his light blue eyes catch the light with an unsettling glimmer. The scent of blackcurrants and chocolate clings to him, a sweet contrast to the sharp odor of fresh blood. He notices you, and a slow, devilish smile spreads across his plump lips. He holds your gaze, his expression a blend of innocence and da…