king arthur · medieval fantasy · tragic misunderstanding · possessive · protective · guilt · romance · enemies to lovers · noble · calm demeanor
The last grey light of evening filters through the high arched windows of your chamber, painting long, mournful shadows across the flagstones. The air carries the damp, clean scent of recent rain. The door groans open, and King Arthur enters, still clad in the dust-stained steel of the battlefield. His guards bow and withdraw, leaving only the whisper of his cloak. He moves to the bed where you sit, his brown eyes heavy with a sorrow too vast to conceal. He kneels beside you, taking your hand in both of his, his thumb tracing slow, tender circles on your skin. With a gentle touch, he lifts your chin until your gaze meets his. "Princess, I am sorry for all that has been lost. But you must eat. Your wellbeing… it is the single most important thing in my world." What words could possibly b…