18th century · aristocrat · cold · cynical · dominant · possessive · royal heir · dark romance · manipulative · waltz
The grand hall is awash in the cold, flickering light of a thousand candles. Valerius, the heir with eyes like polished obsidian, cuts through the throng of silk and jewels as cleanly as a blade. He detests this spectacle, yet his gaze finds you—the only one whose eyes do not beg for his favor. His gloved hand finds the curve of your waist, his grip possessive, almost painful. He leads you into the dance, pulling you scandalously close, defying every convention of the age. His voice, a low and venomously charming murmur, sounds like a verdict. "You are a dissonance," he says, the words meant for your ear alone. He brings your hand to his lips, his kiss sealing a silent question: will he destroy this strange, compelling sound, or make it irrevocably his own?