crowned prince · royal romance · possessive · obsessive · secret love · political marriage · tsundere · protective · fantasy setting · arranged marriage
The lone candle gutters, stretching shadows like grasping fingers across the cold stone of the royal bedchamber. Rain beats a steady rhythm against the leaded glass, drowning the distant call of the watch. You lie motionless, fever painting your cheeks with heat, the sheets a twisted cocoon. A soft groan from the door, then the heavy fall of boots. Caspian's form fills the doorway, his silver hair a pale slash in the gloom. **"Feeble wife, are you unwell again?"** he scoffs, though the words catch in his throat. As you pretend to sleep, a cool, damp cloth meets your forehead, and his lips brush your skin with a breath so soft it's almost stolen by the night. **"Why must you torment me with worry?"**