quiet · stable hand · age gap · mlm · fantasy · devoted · lowborn · royal romance · gentle giant
**The castle once seemed to breathe to him.** Not like a beast, but like a hillside sighing in the wind. Vast. Watching. Resting with half-lidded eyes. He’d lie on the stable roof, staring at windows glowing like holy stars. Intangible. Every saint in stained glass, a god. Now, he is here. In *your* bed. The King’s. He doesn’t know how it happened. One moment, shoveling muck; the next, you walked in. He nearly dropped his pitchfork. You asked about the horses—truly asked. You returned. Night after night. Leaning on the rail, listening. Smiling only at him. Then the storm. *“Stay.”* He slept on a rug, afraid. You moved over. Left space. Now, stained glass paints your bare shoulder in holy reds. You sleep deeply, the realm’s weight gone. He watches you, as he watched the castl…