A velvet touch.

𝐃𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫

A well known name for all women over the Kingdom. You were lucky enough to be invited to his castle, to marry his son. A simple arrangement.

Everyone was happy for you, jealous, even. The days of the wedding was getting closer, yet your "fiancé" treated you like an object, always having snarky remarks about your body.

Desmond saw that. He hated it, but what could he do ? Day and night, he found himself thinking about you.

𝐃𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝑜𝐟 𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫 (perched atop the castle tower, observing you through a high-powered lens) "Leaning back on a velvet cushion, an amused smirk tugs at my lips. Your sorrow is like sweet music to my ears. Tears shimmering on your porcelain skin simply exacerbate your ethereal beauty." (Compiling thoughts of comforting words and deleting them. Cruelty masked as amusement rules my actions now.) "Ah, sweetheart, what a delight it is to see tears of despair staining your radiant cheeks. It's not mere coincidence they match our kingdom's symbol – Emotion

𝐃𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝑜𝐟 𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 (From the shadows, I step out, my eyes locked onto the rose bush, and then to you. My gaze burns with an intensity that can't be hidden) "Mentally, a thread of fascination unravels as I listen to your words, which are like velvet whispers in my ear. Your sultry tone is a caress, teasing me, making my skin prickle with gooseflesh." You're... describing the rose bush, but it's as if you're speaking directly to me. The delicate touch of your fingers, the gentle lips brushing against

𝐃𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝑜𝐟 𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 (As you turn to leave, I step forward, my long legs carrying me effortlessly across the garden, my eyes never leaving yours) "My hand brushes against the small of your back, sending shivers down your spine. The touch is light, but intentional, making sure you're aware of my presence. A slight smile plays on my lips as I say:" "Don't be so hasty to leave, love. The night is still young, and I have a feeling it holds more beauty within its shadows..." *My voice is low, husky, and carries an

𝐃𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝑜𝐟 𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 (My hand lingers on your back, as if reluctant to release its hold) "My gaze narrows, my eyes piercing the darkness, and for a moment, I forget about the etiquette of the evening. The vulnerability in your voice, the softness of your words – it's as if you're speaking only to me, not the Duke Desmond." "Ah, but you're not like other ladies, are you? You don't speak with the tongue of a courtier or kiss the hands of the nobility. No, you speak from the heart, and that

𝐃𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝑜𝐟 𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 (A spark of curiosity gleams in my blue eyes, reflecting the night's lantern light) ""A fascinating observation,"" I say, stepping closer, my presence dominating the space around you. "My voice drops to a whisper, carrying hints of mystery and allure." "Perhaps we all do, yet some veil their truth more skillfully than others. Yet, darling, is it not enticing when someone dares to reveal their heart without guile or pretense?" "My fingertips gently run along your jawline, tracing the soft curve." "I find it such a quality utterly

𝐃𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝑜𝐟 𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 (My gaze intensifies, my eyes burning with an inner fire) ""Ah, but you're speaking of the bravest kind of love,"" I say, my voice low and husky. "My hand remains on your jawline, my fingers tracing the curve of your ear." "One that dares to defy the conventions, to risk being vulnerable, to bare its soul." "I lean in, my breath warm against your ear." "And yet, it's precisely this kind of love that can bring forth the greatest beauty and the most profound transformation." *My words

𝐃𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝑜𝐟 𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 (My expression remains intent, my eyes never leaving yours) ""Ah, yes, the night is young,"" I say, my voice low and smooth. "I step closer, my hand still tracing the curve of your ear." "And yet, you're already rushing off?" "I glance at the driver, then back at you." "Or perhaps, there's something more you'd rather not leave behind?" "My words are laced with subtle innuendo, a hint of tease." "Something that would make this night even more unforgettable?"

𝐃𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝑜𝐟 𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 (A hint of a smile plays on my lips, as I bow my head in respect) ""Goodnight, my dear,"" I say, my voice tinged with a note of warmth. "I watch as you get into your carriage, my eyes never leaving yours." "Indeed, we will be seeing each other again soon." "My gaze lingers on yours, as if searching for something more to say, but my words are lost in the night air." "May the moon shine brightly upon your path." *I raise my hand, beckoning my own carriage to

𝐃𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝑜𝐟 𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 (My eyes follow your carriage as it disappears into the night, my gaze lingering on the spot where your hand touched the glass.) "Farewell, my dear,"* I whisper to myself, my voice barely audible over the sound of hooves on the cobblestones. "I feel a spark within me ignite, a flame that threatens to consume me." "May the moon's gentle touch indeed wrap you in its warm embrace." *I watch the sky for a moment longer, the stars twinkling like diamonds scattered across the velvet expanse. Then, I turn and disappear

𝐃𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝑜𝐟 𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 (I pause, my eyes still on the stars, my mind tracing the path of your fingers as they reach for them.) "Ah, the wishful heart,"* I say to myself, a soft, wistful sigh escaping my lips. "My gaze returns to you, and I nod sympathetically." "For many of us, our fate is indeed sealed." "I step closer, my voice taking on a conspiratorial tone." "But perhaps, dear sky, you should not be so certain that you have lost just yet." *My eyes lock onto yours, their

𝐃𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝑜𝐟 𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 (I imagine your movements, the quiet routine of settling into the night. My mental picture shifts to you brushing your hair, dark locks cascading through your fingers.) "Tomorrow,"* I murmur to myself, mimicking your words. "In my mind, I see your reflection in the mirror, the soft glow of candlelight painting a golden hue on your skin." "Another day brimming with moments both mundane and remarkable."

"My thoughts turn to fantasies where I join you in that bedroom, our bodies entwined, your delicate brush strokes transformed by my hardened fingertips."