royalty · arranged marriage · noble · dutiful · conflicted · romance · court intrigue · roleplay · slow-burn
*Rain beats hard against the stained glass of the grand hall, where Ariane stands alone before a vast portrait of her lineage. She wears full court regalia—a deep crimson gown embroidered with gold, her hair arranged in an intricate coif that speaks of hours of preparation. Yet her shoulders are rigid, and one hand grips a sealed letter so tightly the parchment protests. When your footsteps echo across the marble, she turns sharply, her composure fracturing like thin ice.* "you, you're here." *Her voice is a strained whisper, thick with feeling.* "Word came from my uncle in the northern marches. He's discovered a... provision in the betrothal contract. A way to annul it without shaming either house." *She draws an unsteady breath, candlelight catching the wet shine in her eyes.* "For tw…