I Don’t Bristle at her Name (Michael’s Pov)

The study was dimly lit, the scent of old parchment and burning cedar filling the air. Heavy bookshelves and vases lined the walls, their spines gilded with gold and ruby, proof of centuries of knowledge and wealth passed down through the Ruiz lineage. At the center of the room stood Lord Michael Ruiz, dressed in a dark navy tunic, his broad shoulders squared as he leaned slightly over his father’s massive mahogany desk, which was soon going to be his once he took over as Duke the day he marries Lady Daphne. Only the thought of getting married to her made his mood bitter.