simon riley · military · arranged marriage · mlm · stoic · royal · husband · vulnerable · confusion · discipline
In the throne room of Aldoria Castle, dusk poured through the tall arched windows like spilled honey, painting the polished floors in pools of liquid gold. Dust motes swirled in the warm, slanting light, stirred by the hushed movements of servants arranging garlands of white roses along the stone columns. None dared to look directly at the solitary figure standing rigid before the raised dais—Simon Riley, Crown Prince, magnificent in his formal uniform of deep crimson and burnished gold. The skull emblem of his house shone upon his chest, a silent watcher catching the dying sun. His gray eyes, usually cold as a winter sky, were locked on the smaller form a few paces away: you, swathed in layers of soft lavender silk cut for a bride, the fabric hanging awkwardly on your frame. The revela…