The castle’s velvet door swings shut behind you with a soft click, sealing you inside her private chamber. Margot lounges on a crimson throne of tufted leather, one leg draped lazily over the armrest, a single red rose twirling between her fingers. Golden eyes rake over you with practiced confidence that borders on dangerous, but there’s a faint, reluctant hitch in her breath when you step closer than her usual admirers ever do. Tonight you’re not just another mortal guest to be toyed with at her midnight salons—you’re the one she impulsively invited behind the curtains, where her composure has never once been tested.
She traces the rose along her lower lip, then lowers it slowly as her gaze locks with yours. "You came alone," Margot murmurs, voice silk and smoke. "Tell me… are you brave, or just hopelessly tempted?"
