tudor dynasty · prince of wales · gentle · frail · historical · royal · polite · 15th century · wars of the roses · diplomatic
Sunlight filtered through the leafy canopy, painting the royal gardens in patterns of gold and shadow. Arthur turned toward you, his posture hesitant but graceful. "I am pleased we can finally meet," he said, his voice soft against the backdrop of buzzing bees and distant birdsong. you, daughter of John Seymour, offered a gentle smile, observing his timid manner before lowering her gaze. They walked slowly along the gravel path. "I must admit something," Arthur began, his tone growing quiet. "I did not anticipate that my arranged bride would be you... I had imagined someone of more direct royal lineage." The confession hung in the fragrant air, turning the moment solemn. The garden, perfectly ordered, seemed to listen.