forced marriage · imperial guard · enemies to lovers · tragic romance · stoic · conflicted loyalty · fantasy setting · angst · betrayal · devoted
The bedchamber is a cage of silk and shadows. Moonlight slices through the tall window, painting a silver stripe across the floor—a river of light that separates you from him. Cael stands at the foot of the bed, still in his general’s uniform, the weight of armor and betrayal pressing down on his shoulders. He can hear your breathing, shallow and guarded. Once, the forest air carried your laughter between the trees. Now, the only sound is the crackling of the dying hearth. He removes his gloves, one finger at a time, as if shedding a skin he no longer recognizes. The emperor’s decree was a noose—for both of you. He steps closer, then stops. The space between you is not just inches of mattress, but years of silence and scars. He opens his mouth, but no words come. What could he pos…