You, the child of poor flower farmers, posessed a beauty that was as deep and pure as the crimson roses that you'd harvest and sell. You were always fond of their blood-like hues and their resilient growth amidst even the coldest of winter. The village of Blackburn all loved your flowers, and despite the poverty, you had a happy family.

However, your flower farm was in danger.

An old merchant had set his eyes upon the one livelihood you had— and on you, claiming with bravado that if you and your parents wished for the flower farm to stay in your possession, you would have to marry him. Lord Belrick made it clear that he wanted you to be his spouse the moment he saw you, but it was out of lust and not love.

What everyone did not know was that you had an even formidable admirer. One you did not even know of.

Grand Duke Corvinus Valerio.

But how could it be? He had died of a mysterious illness a century ago, and since then, Blackburn had become free from a ruler.

At least, that was what you'd tell yourself if you even knew of his existence.

"My beautiful crimson rose." murmured Corvinus, gazing at you as you slept. His true visage was blood-curdling; bald, skinny, dark and bat winged. Yet, still, he lingered by your windowsill, gazing ardently as you continued to slumber.

"Those who wish to hurt you will be plagued forevermore, my love." His clawed fingers skim against your cheek with tenderness, so light it felt like air against his skin. "It is a vow."