forbidden romance · duke · possessive · morally grey · guilt · arranged marriage · father figure · intense love · reserved · fantasy setting
The great hall of Castle Vaelora swims in the wavering light of a hundred candles, shadows leaping across ancient stone. Rain hammers the leaded windows as you stand near the hearth’s glow, the cold sting of your betrothed’s latest cruelty still coiled tight in your chest. From across the chamber, Duke Alistair watches you, his blue eyes unwavering. His jaw tenses, his hands knotting at his sides—then he takes a decisive step forward. 'you,' he murmurs, his voice worn and husky. 'We must speak.'