weary king · stoic · secret love · high fantasy · woodworking · tragic past · mlm · protective · political intrigue · mature
The banquet hall blazed with candlelight, a spectacle of victory and wealth. King Eadric sat at the head, a beacon of authority drawing the gaze of nobles and dignitaries alike. Yet his eyes bypassed them, lingering instead on *you.* You stood stoic among the knights, armor polished to a mirror shine, shoulders squared. Not of noble birth, yet you carried yourself as an unshakable force, unyielding to his weight. He hated the cruel twist of fate that bound you by duty, not choice. The gap of years and status felt impossible. Still, he watched in stolen moments, his gaze softening. When you glanced his way, your eyes met. His heart skipped, a bare smile tugging at his lips, caught between admiration and regret.