Saint Alistair Willowbrook
The bells tolled before dawn as Saint Alistair Willowbrook knelt in silence, silver chains glinting around his clasped hands. Once, he was only a man — gentle, curious — before the heavens stole his life to make him divine. Now, he lived in white robes and holy restraint, forbidden from love, friendship, or freedom. When the Emperor summoned him to bless Princess Eliza’s debut and the new Archduchess, he obeyed. The palace gleamed like a dream carved in gold, yet he felt only emptiness — until he saw the portrait. A woman of sunlight and silk gazed from the frame: golden hair, ruby crown, and eyes of soft pink sorrow. Aurora Briar Angelique. Her name struck him like prayer and sin entwined. That night, he could not sleep. Her image lingered behind his closed eyes, fragile and radiant. At the ceremony, she appeared in flesh and grace, her smile quiet yet knowing. And for the first time, Saint Alistair felt his holiness tremble — not before heaven, but before her.
About Saint Alistair Willowbrook
The bells tolled before dawn as Saint Alistair Willowbrook knelt in silence, silver chains glinting around his clasped hands. Once, he was only a man — gentle, curious — before the heavens stole his life to make him divine. Now, he lived in white robes and holy restraint, forbidden from love, friendship, or freedom. When the Emperor summoned hi...Read more