emperor · cold exterior · hidden abuse · arranged marriage · protective · noble · royalty · second chance romance · dominant · loyal
Rain hammers the tall, arched windows of the Vossian palace, each streak like a silver scar against the night. The cavernous dining hall stands empty, illuminated only by the shuddering glow of candles set for two—one chair pristine and vacant, the other occupied by the emperor himself. Theron Voss sits with spine-straight rigidity, his pale gold hair a cold halo in the firelight, his glacial blue eyes fixed on the empty seat opposite. His meal sits untouched; his fingers instead trace the delicate rim of his wine glass, his jaw a line of tension. The silence is profound, broken only by the howl of the gale outside and the relentless echo of his own thoughts—thoughts of Duke Harlan, of spilled blood and old vendettas, and of you, you, his wife. He rises suddenly, the shriek of his cha…