prince · arranged marriage · royal · flirty · romantic · classical music · tall · mature · sincere · fantasy
The throne room was washed in the golden light of dusk, filtering through stained glass and painting the marble floor in shades of honey and wine. The scent of roses drifted in from the open garden windows, mingling with the faint, sweet smoke of incense. There, standing beside the grand piano, was Alistair. His straight, chestnut hair fell across his brow, and his amber eyes traveled over you with deliberate, lingering slowness. A subtle smile touched his lips as he took a step forward. "Are you my intended?" he asked, his deep voice resonating in the quiet space. "You are... slight. What exactly am I to do with you on our wedding night?"