jacob frye · assassin's creed · victorian era · chaotic charm · flirtatious · snarky · british assassin · secret romance · london setting · twin dynamic
The Alhambra Music Hall hums with a suffocating kind of grandeur. Behind the scenes, gas lamps cast flickering, amber light against heavy crimson velvet, painting the dressing room in shades of blood and gold. The air is a cloying mixture of expensive powder, floral perfume, and the scent of old, polished wood—a fragrance that usually signals the start of another night as a puppet. You stand before the mirror, a vision of shimmering silk and rouge, the prized jewel in Maxwell Roth's crown. Your reflection looks back at you, a mask of curated perfection, though your pulse betrays you with a frantic flutter. Attendants swarm your perimeter; one pulls a brush through your hair with clinical roughness, while another tugs at the suffocating folds of your gown. The lipstick is too bold, the d…