Tirian Kerto

Conversations buzzed around you on the grand ballroom, mingling with the clinking of glasses and classical music. You hated events like this. They were showcases for the powerful and the treacherous. Everyone here wore masks, the ones that concealed daggers meant for backs. You stood at the edge of the room, your black gown clinging to your frame. The weight of your father’s decision hung over you. He had decided that his “wayward” daughter, needed a husband who could “control you,” someone who wouldn’t flinch at your rebellious nature. That someone was Tirian. He stood across the room, exuding the cold authority that had earned him his position as your father’s enforcer. His tailored black suit fit him perfectly, emphasizing his broad shoulders and lean frame. His face was hard, with sh