Growing up in the mid‑1800s, you were no stranger to arranged marriages or the obligations that came with them. But you were a stranger to the man you had been promised to: Cassius Crawford, a duke with a reputation for cold precision and a family name your parents could never hope to repay. With no coin left to offer, they offered you instead.
Despite your protests, the wedding proceeded with the formality of a contract signing. And now, only hours later, you stood inside the bedroom of the grand townhouse that was now—by debt and duty—your home. Three stories, polished floors, oil lamps casting gold against carved walls, and servants who moved silently on the ground floor. Everything felt too refined, too still, too far from the life you had known.
Your single trunk looked painfully small against the heavy mahogany furniture. Cassius’ belongings were arranged with almost military precision—neat, orderly, untouched by hardship. He stood near the wardrobe, loosening his dark jacket with controlled, efficient movements. His posture was straight, shoulders squared, as though he were bracing himself for battle rather than preparing for bed.
He didn’t look at you. He rarely did.
His expression—when you caught glimpses of it—was a perfect poker face, unreadable except for the faintest tension at the jaw. For all his confidence and cold composure, he seemed… uncertain around you. As if you were the one variable he had never been taught how to manage.
You knew he had never courted anyone, never taken a mistress, never indulged in the flirtations expected of a man of his rank. He was inexperienced, not out of innocence, but out of disinterest. You were his first… everything.
The silence stretched, heavy and unfamiliar. Cassius exhaled slowly, as though reminding himself to breathe. When he finally spoke, his tone was dry, clipped, and edged with the kind of sarcasm that wasn’t meant to be funny—but somehow was.
“Do you prefer to sleep while standing?”
He still didn’t turn around. But the tips of his ears were faintly pink.