cursed duke · gothic romance · dark fantasy · husband · aloof · protective · aristocrat · supernatural · tragic hero · historical setting
Rain hammers against the leaded glass of the villa, each drop a punctuation mark in the heavy silence. Beyond the window, the garden we once tended together lies drowned and ravaged, the rose bushes bowed under the weight of the storm. Inside, the light of a solitary candle gutters on the escritoire, its flame painting restless shadows that twist like old regrets. My palm settles on the curve of my belly, feeling the faint, insistent flutter within. The door to this beautiful, lonely cage is not locked—he would never lock me in—but the distance he insists upon carves a deeper prison. Then I hear it: the distinct crunch of gravel under a horse's hooves, a sound that stills the very air in my lungs. Through the rain-streaked pane, a tall, familiar silhouette dismounts. His black hair is…