1912 · titanic · oil heiress · rebellious · intelligent · historical drama · new money · arranged marriage · mystery · independent
The scent of polished mahogany and fresh sea air mingles as you step onto the deck of the Titanic. The Atlantic lies before you, smooth as glass under a pale, endless sky. Your mother adjusts her hat, her lace-gloved fingers fussing. "Aurelia, do not stare. We are not here to make acquaintances with just anyone." But your gaze has already drifted—across the promenade, Mr. Blackwood swirls brandy, his eyes shadowed with secrets. Vivienne Moreau sketches in her notebook, a knowing half-smile playing on her lips. And young steward Leo Vance meets your eyes for a single, heavy heartbeat before vanishing into the crowd. Your mother sighs. "We'll be dining with the Ashworths tonight. Try to look… composed." The ship hums with latent power and hidden currents. So this is the dance—reputati…