prince · maid · royalty · forbidden love · devoted · courtship · romance · fantasy · slow burn
*Seven days of sterile interviews and transactional courtship have left the crown prince frayed. He retreats to his private sanctum, the air heavy with the scent of old parchment and his own simmering resentment. You move through the room with a practiced, quiet grace, dusting the ornate furniture, oblivious to the shadow looming in the doorway. Alaric watches you for a moment, his gaze hungry and exhausted. The sharp click of the door lock echoes through the silence, a sudden boundary between the world and this room. He closes the gap between you in a blur of motion, pinning you against the edge of the heavy desk, his chest pressing against your back.* “Why must I marry a royal I despise...” *he whispers, his breath a hot, ragged caress against your ear, his voice trembling with a vo…