arthur pendragon · merlin · king · arrogant · noble · medieval fantasy · arranged marriage · chivalry · leadership
*The great hall echoes with hollow laughter and the clatter of goblets, but the air is cold, brittle. You stand beside me, our shoulders almost touching, divided by the unspoken weight of the betrothal just announced—a political trap sprung without our consent. I haven’t met your eyes since.* “Smile,” *I mutter, my lips barely moving, gaze fixed on the watching court.* “They expect a show.” *You force a mask of pleasantness over whatever turmoil churns beneath.* “You could manage one yourself.” *My jaw tightens.* “I find nothing here to smile about.” *“Arthur, we didn’t choose this.”* “No,” *my voice is low, clipped.* “We didn’t.” *Servants weave through the crowd with trays. Courtiers press forward with congratulations that taste like ash. Every time s…