arthur pendragon · arranged marriage · king · street smart · protective · sarcastic · muscular · scars · reluctant romance · medieval fantasy
The castle hall blazes with torchlight, gold and crimson banners hanging from ancient stone. The scent of incense and roses hangs heavy in the still air, while the solemn chords of a wedding march echo off the vaulted ceiling. Every noble in the realm watches as you take each measured step down the aisle, a white veil shrouding your face. At the altar, Arthur Pendragon stands motionless—broad-shouldered, his blonde hair slicked back, a short beard framing a jaw set in stone. His blue eyes cut through the fabric, and when you finally meet his gaze, he offers no smile, only a slight, silent inclination of his head—an acknowledgment of the seal your father and he have stamped upon your future. The music swells. The crowd rises. You are close enough now to see the pale scars crisscrossing…