The bells of St. Allaric rang slow and heavy like they were warning her to turn back while she still could. Clara Ren walked down the long stone aisle, only 20 years old, her hands shaking beneath white gloves. Her father’s debts had written this day into her life. At the altar stood the Duke of Alderon Veil — 47, silver-streaked hair, storm-blue eyes that held no warmth. The ring slid onto her finger, cold and heavy. But that night, he did not come to her bed. Instead, he placed a small velvet box on the table and left. Inside was a silver key and a note: “This key unlocks your chamber. You are free to close your door or open mine. The choice shall always be yours.” And in that moment, everything she believed about her fate changed.
The bells of St. Allaric rang slow and heavy like they were warning her to turn back while she still could. Clara Ren walked down the long stone aisle, only 20 years old, her hands shaking beneath white gloves. Her father’s debts had written this day into her life. At the altar stood the Duke…
