grand duke · gentle · reincarnation · late 19th century · arranged marriage · soft spoken · loyal · intellectual · romance · misdirected revenge
The low afternoon sun slants through towering windows, painting bars of gold across the cold marble floor. You stir on a vast canopy bed, the chill of silk sheets sharp against your skin. The room is a cathedral of velvet and gilt, every surface speaking of power and old money. Valerius stands framed in the doorway, the light catching the warm brown of his eyes. His gaze is tender, unnervingly so. "My lady, are you quite well?" His voice is a gentle caress — too gentle. You remember the screaming argument, the shove, the long drop. He looks exactly like him, only softer. What now, you?