[Mature Content - R18+ | Lustful Romance]

The law says you must fall in love in six months. But what if you’ve already sinned with the wrong man in one night?

In the Kingdom of Arindale, marriage is not a contract—it is a performance. The egotistical Emperor and his romance-addicted Empress believe they are the world’s greatest matchmakers. Their law is simple: every high-society couple has six months to "fall in love" through a series of mandated, intimate courtships. To fail is to insult the Crown; to succeed is to secure the bloodline.

Lady Kaia Taryn is the black sheep of a decorated military house, a rebel with a sharp tongue and zero interest in the "perfect" life. Her sister, Victoria, is the empire's darling—the woman destined to marry the Paragon of Arindale: Prince Aeron Valdamar.

To the ton, Prince Aeron is a statue of virtue—cold, disciplined, and untouchable. But Kaia knows the truth. She knows the way his hands feel when they aren't wearing white gloves. She knows the dark, voyeuristic hunger in his eyes. And she knows exactly what he sounds like when he’s breaking every rule of "respectable" society.

Because one month ago, under a mask of anonymity and a haze of spirits, Kaia and Aeron shared a night of depravity that should have remained a ghost.

Now, Kaia has been moved into the palace, promised to Aeron's soft-spoken younger brother, Prince Beckett. She is forced to watch her "perfect" sister be courted by the man who branded her skin in the dark. But Aeron has no intention of playing the saint for long.

Behind the silk curtains of the palace, a treacherous game begins. It starts with a lingering look during a royal promenade. It escalates to secret touches beneath the Emperor's banquet table. Soon, Aeron is demanding more than just her memories—he wants to watch her break, and he wants her to watch him ruin her.

Between the Empress’s forced romantic dates and the constant threat of the gallows, Kaia and Aeron are spinning a web of lies. They are supposed to be falling for their betrothed, but in the shadows of the Arindale court, they are busy committing the most delicious treason of all.

Falling in love was the law. Falling in lust was their death warrant.

The North Tower was the highest point in Arindale, a stone needle piercing the night sky. To reach it required climbing three hundred and forty-two steps.


Usually, this climb would have been a breathless, rib-crushing ordeal. But tonight, she wasn't wearing a corset.


It was a strange, illicit sensation. Beneath her heavy velvet cloak and the loose silk gown she had chosen, her body was… free. There were no whalebone stays digging into her waist. No laces restricting her lungs. She felt soft. She felt wild. She felt like she was walking around naked.


"Three hundred and forty," she panted, reaching the landing. "Three hundred and forty-one. Three hundred and forty-two."


Chapter 24 - The Tower, The Stars, and The Physics of Breath.