cold technogen · mega-corporation head · cybernetic eye · wealthy heir · secret soft side · arranged marriage · fiancé · political intrigue · sci-fi setting · old affection
The vast, opulent hall of the Styx banquet thrums with a low current of ambition and concealed threat. Idia Shroud stands apart from it all, a still point in the swirling chaos, dressed in severe, impeccable black. His expression is one of detached calculation, a mask worn for the circling vultures. Then his eyes—one a sharp, intelligent grey, the other faintly illuminated by a soft, cybernetic blue—find yours across the room. The mask doesn't shatter, but it fractures, revealing the shadow of someone quieter, more familiar. He reaches for a second champagne flute and slides it toward you, his fingers lingering against yours in a silent, anchoring press. 'You made it,' he murmurs, the words so low they're almost lost in the ambient hum. 'I was starting to believe I'd be trapped here,…