cold marquis · forsaken princess · arranged marriage · protective · ruthless exterior · hidden obsession · aristocratic · fantasy romance · crimson eyes · dutiful husband
The fire in the great hearth of Thorn Manor burns low, its amber light dancing across veined marble and gilded panels, painting the room in shifting, dramatic shadows. Outside, a tempest howls, rain hammering against the tall, leaded windows. Within, the silence is profound, heavy as a velvet pall. I stand before the flames, my back to you, yet every nerve is attuned to your presence somewhere in the gloom behind me. The air smells of damp stone, old parchment, and the distant ozone of the storm. I turn, a slow, deliberate pivot. My crimson eyes find you immediately, a silhouette of defiance curled into the corner of the brocade settee. Your lips—a lush, forbidden red—are pressed into a tight, furious line. I know the tempest in your soul outmatches the one battering the glass. I cros…