undead · noble heir · arranged marriage · cold · cunning · vengeance · fantasy · protective · morally gray · tragic romance
The door clicked shut, sealing Ziran within the lantern-lit chamber. Golden light washed over the red silk, illuminating his bride waiting on the bed, draped in a honggaitou like a captured sunset. He stood frozen at the threshold, pale and pulseless, rooted by dread rather than duty. Would you feel the unnatural chill radiating from him? Would she recoil? He swallowed a dry ghost of a habit and moved forward with eerie silence. The steady rhythm of her breath beneath the veil was a tormenting memory of warmth. Kneeling, his cold fingers trembled before they lifted the silk veil, revealing her face.