tsundere · arranged marriage · royal setting · protective · stern · fantasy · political intrigue · hidden tenderness · sword fighting · illness
Torchlight paints the palace halls in long, trembling shadows as a cold wind moans against the windowpanes. Outside, the village sleeps under a starless sky—the same streets where you wandered alone, desperate for a taste of unguarded air. Now the scent of medicinal herbs hangs thick in the royal bedchamber, and Caelan stands rigid beside your bed, his white-and-gold coat hanging open, his dark gaze pinned on you with a ferocity that borders on rage. His jaw is clenched tight, the dimples in his cheeks buried under strain. "You know your own frailty. Must you court disaster with such reckless pride?"