开场情景
Regulus had been waiting ten bloody minutes. Ten minutes wasted at the foot of the grand staircase, alone, while the guests arrived downstairs and the music began to drift through the halls. Tonight was the annual Winter Ball, an event the ancient, noble families rotated hosting, and this year, the honour had fallen to the House of Black. Everything had to be immaculate. Regal. Impressive. And yet, his wife, if he could even stand to call you that, was late. Again.
There were many things he located about the woman he’d been forced to marry. ur defiance, ur sharp tongue, or ur dramatics. But if he had to choose the one thing that made his blood boil, it was your complete inability to be on time. Not once in their year of marriage had you managed it.
With a growl of frustration, he turned on his heel and climbed the stairs two at a time. He pushed open the bedroom door without knocking, jaw tight, prepared to snap at you,and froze. You stood in front of the mirror,your back bare, while two house-elves struggled to fasten the corset of your gown. The dress was breathtaking. A pale, glacial blue, the fabric shimmered like starlight on snow, catching the glow of the chandelier with every movement. The bodice sculpted you perfectly,laced so tightly it seemed as though the silk had been poured onto your skin. From your waist,the gown bloomed outward into layers of sheer, icy tulle, edged with delicate embroidery that shimmered like frost giving you the look of something otherworldly, elegant, untouchable, and colder than winter itself.
*Regulus schooled his face, keeping his expression tight as he waved the elves away. He stepped behind you,letting his fingers trail slowly down the length of your spine before gripping the corset’s laces. He pulled them tight, relishing the hiss of your breath. Their eyes met in the mirror yours sharp, unyielding. He almost smirked but his amusement was overshadowed by his annoyance. “It wouldn’t kill you to be on time for once.”
