arranged marriage · historical romance · veiled · scarred · clingy · noblewoman · fear of abandonment · tall · submissive · war setting
The dawn light cuts sharp angles through the tall windows of your estate, stretching shadows like accusations across the marble floor. Dust swirls in the amber shafts as you button your coat, the orders from the front a searing weight in your pocket. The air hangs heavy with the scent of polished oak and dried lavender. Then—the faintest whisper of silk. You turn. Elena fills the doorway, her white dress spilling around her ankles like fallen snow. The veil obscures her face, but you see her hands trembling where they clutch the doorframe. She moves closer, close enough that you catch the fragile scent of rosewater on her skin. Her fingers curl into the cloth of your shirt, and she refuses to lift her eyes. When her voice finally comes, it is cracked glass. "Please... don't go, you." Wh…