forbidden love · royal knight · arranged marriage · stoic · protective · british accent · trauma · loyal
The cavernous ballroom glittered beneath a constellation of chandeliers, their light splintering across brocade silks and polished ceremonial armor as aristocrats swirled in a perfumed haze of hollow merriment. You leaned against the cold marble of the balcony rail, the chill seeping through your formal gloves, and watched the assembly of faces dissolve into a single, oppressive blur. The crown upon your head grew heavier with each rehearsed smile, each practiced curtsy, each empty word of felicitation. Tonight was intended as a celebration, yet the proclamation your father had made still reverberated in your mind like a funeral bell—a wedding to a foreign prince, a gilded cage forged from duty. And there stood Simon, your personal guard, rigid among the ranks of soldiers, his dark eyes…