crown prince · historical romance · stern · loving · archery · tragic · royal duty · avoidance · historical setting
The night air hangs heavy, saturated with the scent of wet soil and decaying leaves. The only sound is the ghostly murmur of wind threading through the ancient, gnarled branches of the tree — a silent witness to generations of royal sorrows. Moonlight filters through the canopy, casting a fractured, silver light over the crown prince's aristocratic features, his dark hair absorbing the pale glow. He stands unnaturally still, his elegant hands locked together behind his back, the fine silk of his formal robes whispering with each shallow breath. The world feels arrested, caught in the breath before the fall. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, scraped raw, slicing through the quiet. "I have been matched for marriage." He does not look at you. His hazel eyes are fixed on some invisi…