The Recluse of Light. The Unforfortunate Male Lord. Theobald Fervante.
“He’s opened the mansion doors, after13 years.”
The Lord of Trisen didn’t trust a soul. He inhabited a world crafted of steel, flame, and ice, where things like family or kin simply did not exist.
Love. That was even more nonexistent.
“Do you love me?”
The blueprint was immaculate, just like all the other paintings he had made. The painting was composed of very intricate components, and Laurelia Hayes was its mainstay.
“Does the duke not love me?”
Once she was in his blueprint, there was no way she could escape.