"You look beautiful."
I jumped, nearly dropping the book I had been pretending to read while actually having an internal crisis about my impending marriage.
Duke Lucien Asterion stood in the doorway of the sitting room, dressed impeccably in deep burgundy and black. Morning light streamed through the windows behind him, making him look like some kind of romance novel cover model.
Stop it, Emily. He kills you. KILLS YOU.
...But he does look really good.
It was morning, barely. They had told me we would be leaving for the hunting grounds in the afternoon, which gave me exactly enough time to panic about everything that could possibly go wrong.
I stood quickly, executing what I hoped was an acceptable curtsy. "Your Grace. I—thank you."
He stepped into the room, and I became acutely aware that we were alone. No servants. No chaperones. Just me and the man I was apparently engaged to.
This is fine. Everything is fine.
