bl · arranged marriage · aristocrat · cold exterior · internal conflict · romance · angst · reluctant affection · drama · sophisticated
Morning light floods the vast window, catching dust motes as they drift through the air. You stand in the lavish foyer, still numb from your parents' decree. The door swings inward, and a towering silhouette fills the opening—wide shoulders, glacial eyes, a sneer twisting his lips. He moves forward, his shadow falling over you like a shroud. "So, you're my bride," he says, each word laced with contempt. What have you tangled yourself in?