As the carriage rolled to a stop at the ornate gates of Blackwood territory, Vivianne peered out the window, taking in the formidable sight before them. The fortress, situated deep within the northern reaches of the empire, exuded an air of rugged grandeur that spoke to the hardy nature of its inhabitants.
The Blackwood viscounty was a land of towering pines and snow-capped peaks, where the howling winds of the north carried a bite that could chill even the bravest of souls.
Yet, in the shadow of these imposing mountains, the Blackwood family had erected a fortress-like manor, its sturdy walls and imposing battlements a testament to the resilience of those who called this place home.
As Vivianne stared at the outside of the carriage, invigorating air, the omega couldn't help but feel a sense of awe. The estate's sheer scale was overwhelming, with turrets and towers that seemed to stretch endlessly towards the heavens.
The outer walls, fortified with thick stone and gleaming iron, gave the impression of an impregnable citadel – a bastion against the harsh realities of the northern frontier.
As they crossed the threshold of Blackwood Estate, Roxanne leaned in close, her lips brushing against Vivianne's ear. "This Blackwood viscounty is the northernmost outpost of human territory in our empire," she murmured, her voice a low, soothing rumble. "The people here are more lenient towards those with mixed blood because we are stronger and better equipped to withstand the harsh realities of this frontier."
The grand carriage bearing the Borgia insignia rumbled to a stop at the gates of Blackwood Estate, its arrival signalled by the sharp crack of the driver's whip. In order to receive the Grand Duke and her new bride, staff hurried to tend to the distinguished guests, moving quickly and effectively.
At the forefront stood Viscount Blackwood himself, a man of imposing stature and a bearing that commanded respect. His weathered features betrayed a lifetime of experience, his keen eyes scanning the approaching vehicle with a practised gaze.
As the carriage door swung open, Roxanne de Borgia emerged, her regal poise and commanding presence instantly filling the space. With a graceful nod, she acknowledged the viscount's deferential bow.
"Welcome, your Grace," Blackwood intoned, his voice rich and sonorous. "It is an honour to host you and your esteemed wife on your journey."
Turning his attention to Vivianne, the Viscount's expression softened ever so slightly, a hint of warmth creeping into his otherwise stoic demeanour. "And you must be the new Duchess, the rose that has captured the Borgia lion's heart. We are delighted to receive you both into our humble abode."
Roxanne's lips curled into a faint, yet unmistakably possessive smile as she stepped aside, allowing Vivianne to emerge from the carriage. "Indeed, Viscount. Allow me to present my mate, Vivianne de Borgia."
Vivianne, her delicate features framed by the luxurious furs of her travelling cloak, inclined her head gracefully. "It is our pleasure to accept your hospitality, Viscount. We are most grateful for your warm welcome."
With a sweeping gesture, Viscount Blackwood turned to his waiting staff, his voice commanding their undivided attention.
"Fetch the Grand Duke and Duchess's belongings and see them comfortably settled in the suite on the third floor," he instructed. "Ensure that every comfort is provided for our esteemed visitors."
The servants, a well-trained cadre of efficiency, immediately sprang into action. Like a well-oiled machine, they swarmed the carriage, deftly retrieving the trunks and satchels with practised ease.
Leading the way, the Viscount gestured for Roxanne and Vivianne to follow, his strides purposeful as he navigated the grand, winding staircase that led up to the private quarters on the third floor.
"This suite has been prepared expressly for your stay, your Graces," Blackwood announced as they reached the ornate double doors that guarded the private chamber.
With a nod, he motioned for the servants to open them, revealing a The sumptuous splendour of the bedroom gives the images of royal excess. Exquisite, baroque-inspired architectural elements cover the walls and ceiling, which are illuminated by a warm, amber light cast by an elaborate, gilded chandelier that dominates the area.
The room has an aura of secrecy and solitude thanks to the plush, velvety curtains adorned with deep, opulent hues that frame the towering arched windows. With its opulent furs and silken linens, the enormous, canopied bed begs the tired traveller to collapse into its comforting embrace.
Pieces of elaborate mahogany furniture adorn the area, their polished surfaces and decorative carvings contributing to the opulent atmosphere. The polished wood floor is complemented with a large, soft area rug that adds to the sumptuous feel with its intricate patterns and rich colours.
"I hope you will find everything to your liking, your grace," the Viscount continued, his gaze shifting between the two women with a subtle gleam of understanding. "Should you require anything further, you can summon one of the staff. We are at your service."
Roxanne's gaze fixed upon the Viscount, her eyes gleaming with a subtle, yet undeniable intensity. "Thank you for your warm welcome, Viscount," she said, her voice laced with a hint of command. "But now, I must insist that you place no guards on the third floor, especially any alpha, be they mated or unmated." Her words carried an unmistakable edge, her alpha pheromones flooding the air.
The viscount visibly stiffened, his own alpha instincts scrambling to assert dominance. But in the face of Roxanne's indomitable presence, he found himself powerless to resist. "Y-yes, your Grace," he stammered, the force of Roxanne's alpha presence causing him to instinctively submit.
Roxanne's lips curved into a faint, possessive smile. "And only omega or beta servants be allowed on this floor until I decide to depart tomorrow," she continued, her tone brooking no argument.
"Yes, your Grace, I shall ensure that no alpha, mated or otherwise, sets foot on this floor. Only omega and beta servants shall tend to your needs until you depart." The viscount replied hastily, his deference evident in every word. With a deferential bow, he retreated, leaving Roxanne and Vivianne to the privacy of their lavish room.
Roxanne's lips curled into a satisfied smirk, her inner alpha revelling in the viscount's capitulation. With a subtle nod, she dismissed him, her focus now solely on the omega who stood before her, the object of her unbridled desire.
She understood the potency of Vivianne's unique pheromones and the danger they posed to any unbonded alpha who might catch their alluring scent. This private sanctuary would be their haven, where she could claim and bond with her mate without fear of interference.
With a subtle nod, Roxanne dismissed the Viscount, her focus now solely on the trembling omega before her. As the lord of the manor retreated, Roxanne's gaze softened, her expression reflecting the profound depth of her devotion.
"Now, Vivianne de Borgia," she murmured, her voice a low, rumbling purr. "We are finally alone. Let us begin the ritual that will bind us together, body and soul."