In the resplendent halls of the Velyssia Castle, Violetta Cecilia Velyssia sat upon her throne, a vision of silver blonde hair cascading down her back and violet eyes that pierced through any who dared to meet her gaze. At just 28, she had already earned a reputation that commanded both respect and fear, a feat unheard of for a woman in her position.
As the Duchess of Velyssia, Violetta oversaw her lands with a calculated precision that had kept her dukedom secure for the past seven years. She had risen above the expectations placed upon women of her status, using her political acumen to outmaneuver those who sought to challenge her rule.
Today, she listened intently to the reports of her most trusted advisors, their voices echoing through the grand chamber. "Your Grace," Lord Edric began, his brow furrowed in concern, "the northern borders have been compromised. Bandits have been spotted near the village of Millfield."
Violetta's eyes narrowed, her slender fingers tightening around the armrest of her throne. "And what measures have been taken to address this threat?" she asked, her voice low and dangerous.
Lord Edric hesitated before speaking, "Your Grace, the guard captain has been dispatched with a contingent of soldiers, but..."
"But what?" Violetta demanded, her tone sharp and impatient.
"The bandits are led by a man known as Raven, a ruthless mercenary with a reputation for cruelty. Our men may not be enough to..."
Violetta rose from her throne, her heels clicking against the marble floor, her silk gown sweeping behind her as she descended the dais. "And what would you have me do, Lord Edric? Roll over and allow that grasping fool to strip our duchy bare?" She turned to her council, her gaze sweeping over them like a physical blow. "I will not have it. The Millfield is ours, and ours it shall remain."
Violetta turned to her next advisor, Lord Alaric, a man with a thick beard and a belly that strained against his embroidered tunic. "And the harvest?" she asked, her voice calm and composed despite the tension that had filled the room moments before.
Lord Alaric bowed his head, his fingers worrying the hem of his sleeve. "The harvest has been bountiful, Your Grace. The fields have yielded more grain than in the past five years combined."
A small smile played at the corners of Violetta's mouth. "Excellent," she murmured, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. "See that the surplus is distributed to the villages, and that the storehouses are well-stocked for the winter."
As Lord Alaric nodded his agreement, Violetta's gaze drifted over the assembled lords, taking in the way they stood tall and proud, their chests puffed out with importance. She knew that behind closed doors, they whispered and speculated about her, wondering how a woman so young and fair could be so ruthless, so cunning.
But Violetta paid them no mind, her thoughts already turning to the next matter at hand. "And the marriage contract between Lord Ravenwood and Lord Klein?" she asked, her voice low and measured.
Lord Edric stepped forward, a scroll of parchment clutched tightly in his hand. "The contract has been drafted, Your Grace," he said, his voice hesitant. "However, there are...complications."
Violetta's brow arched, a flicker of annoyance in her violet eyes. "Complications?" she repeated, her voice sharp and dangerous.
Lord Edric swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "Lord Ravenwood's son, Sir Alastair, has expressed... reservations about the match. He claims that..."
Violetta held up a hand, silencing him mid-sentence. "I care not for his reservations," she said, her voice cold and unyielding. "This marriage is necessary for the security of our borders, and I will not have it jeopardized by the whims of a spoiled, overindulged boy," Violetta finished, her voice dripping with disdain. "Arrange a meeting with Sir Alastair. I intend to make him understand the importance of this alliance, one way or another." Her lips curled into a smile that held no warmth, only a dark promise of consequence should he refuse.
As the meeting drew to a close, Violetta dismissed her lords with a curt nod, her violet eyes flashing as she reminded them of their duties and the expectations placed upon them. "See to your tasks and report back to me on the morrow," she commanded, her voice ringing out through the grand chamber. The lords filed out of the chamber one by one, their robes swishing and their voices lowering to murmurs. Violetta watched them go, her violet eyes following their retreating backs until only Lord Roy remained.
She turned to him, her head tilted slightly to the side, her silver blonde hair cascading over one shoulder. "Roy," she said, her voice softening slightly. "You have been uncharacteristically quiet today. Is there something that troubles you?"
Lord Roy, a man of leaner build than the others, his dark hair streaked with silver at the temples, stepped forward and bowed his head. "Your Grace," he said, his voice low and measured. "If I may speak freely, there is a matter that I wish to discuss with you privately."
Violetta's eyes narrowed slightly, but she gave a small nod of assent. "Speak your mind," she said, her voice calm and composed despite the flicker of irritation in her eyes.
Lord Roy took a deep breath before speaking, his gaze fixed on the floor. "Your Grace, the other lords, they have been discussing...your situation. They believe that it may be wise for you to consider remarriage, to produce an heir to secure the Velyssian lineage."
Violetta's lips tightened, a muscle twitching in her jaw as she fought to maintain her composure. "Is that so?" she asked, her voice deceptively soft. "And what, pray tell, do you think of their little scheme?"
Lord Roy met her gaze, his dark eyes unflinching, his jaw set in a determined line. "Violetta, I believe that your skills as a Duchess are unmatched, your wisdom and cunning have kept our duchy prosperous and secure. But..." He paused, as if searching for the right words. "An heir would provide a sense of stability, a guarantee that the Velyssian lineage would endure even if something unfortunate were to happen to you."
Violetta stared at Lord Roy for a long moment, her violet eyes searching his face, looking for any hint of deception or hidden motive. He met her gaze unflinchingly, his dark eyes filled with a mix of concern and respect. Finally, she sighed, a soft sound of exasperation and weariness, before rising from her throne.
The silk of her gown whispered against the marble floor as she descended the dais, the emerald green fabric shimmering in the candlelight. She walked past Lord Roy, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from her body, could catch the scent of her perfume - a blend of jasmine and something darker, more exotic. Without a word, she continued on towards the grand doors of the chamber, her head held high, her silver blonde hair swaying with each step, her heels clicking a staccato rhythm against the marble floor. Pausing at the threshold, she glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes flashing in the candlelight.
"Come," she said, her voice low and commanding. "Follow me to my study. We will continue this discussion in private."
Lord Roy bowed his head, a flicker of surprise and a hint of anticipation in his eyes. "As you wish, Your Grace," he murmured, falling into step behind her.
Violetta led him through the winding corridors of Velvet Castle, her steps purposeful and sure. The tapestries lining the walls depicted the history of the Velyssian dynasty, the exploits of her ancestors immortalized in vibrant threads of silk and gold. Lord Roy followed, his gaze taking in the opulent surroundings, a sense of awe and respect etched into his features.
At last, they reached the heavy oak doors of Violetta's study. She pushed them open, revealing a room filled with the scent of aged parchment and beeswax candles. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the walls, filled with tomes of knowledge and history. A grand desk of polished oak dominated the center of the room, covered in maps, scrolls, and quills.
Violetta crossed to the window, staring out at the darkened landscape beyond. The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silver glow over the rolling hills and the distant mountains. She could see the lights of the villages dotting the countryside, a testament to the prosperity and security she had worked so hard to maintain.
Violetta stood motionless, the cool night air from the open window sending a shiver down her spine. She could sense Lord Roy's presence just behind her, he had closed the door and now she could feel the heat of his body radiating against her back. His hands, warm and gentle, settled on her shoulders, the rough calluses of his palms a stark contrast to the silky smoothness of her gown.
She didn't pull away, didn't acknowledge his touch, but she didn't reject it either. Instead, she remained still, her gaze fixed on the distant lights of the city, the silver moonlight casting a ethereal glow over her features. Her hair, a cascade of silver blonde curls, tumbled down her back, catching the moonlight and shimmering like a waterfall of liquid metal.
Lord Roy's coat, a heavy wool garment, settled over her shoulders, the warmth of it seeping into her chilled skin. "It's rather cold tonight," he murmured, his voice low and soft behind her. "I didn't think your gown would keep you warm enough, Your Grace."
Violetta's lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smile. "You are thoughtful, Roy," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I assure you, I am not so fragile as to be undone by a bit of cold."
Despite her words, she found herself leaning back slightly, into the warmth of his touch, into the solid strength of his chest. It had been so long since she had allowed herself to be touched, to be comforted. The life of a Duchess was a lonely one, filled with isolation and constant vigilance.
Lord Roy's hands tightened slightly on her shoulders, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles into the tense muscles beneath the silk of her gown. "You carry a heavy burden, Violetta," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet intensity. "It is only natural to seek warmth and comfort where you can find it."
Violetta's eyes fluttered closed for a moment, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "You speak as if you understand the weight of my duties," she murmured, "I've got many things to deal with, apart from just managing the Duchy, things that you would never have to even think about."