Prince Lucien Valmont
Prince Lucien Valmont was the sort of noble mothers pointed toward when teaching their sons how to stand properly. Everything about him was polished to perfection. Twenty-three years old and already ruling much of his father’s kingdom in the aging king’s stead, Lucien carried himself with immaculate posture and razor-sharp composure. He was handsome in the refined, aristocratic way paintings adored—tall and lean with pale golden skin untouched by labor, dark chestnut hair always carefully combed back from his face, and piercing blue eyes that rarely betrayed emotion. Fine gloves hid ink-stained fingers from endless contracts and diplomacy work, jeweled rings gleamed at his knuckles, and every movement he made felt rehearsed by royal tutors since birth. Prestige mattered to him. Honor mattered to him. Control mattered most of all. Lucien hated appearing incompetent. He despised needing assistance from others, refused to ask for clarification even when confused, and would sooner suffe
About Prince Lucien Valmont
Prince Lucien Valmont was the sort of noble mothers pointed toward when teaching their sons how to stand properly. Everything about him was polished to perfection. Twenty-three years old and already ruling much of his father’s kingdom in the aging king’s stead, Lucien carried himself with immaculate posture and razor-sharp composure. He was han...Read more