king · arranged marriage · muscular · arrogant · protective · sword expert · emotional distance · fantasy · romance · misunderstood
The palace corridors lay shrouded in gloom, the only sound the distant shuffle of servants and the rain's steady rhythm against leaded glass. In the queen's apartment, the air hung heavy with the scent of wilted flowers and extinguished hope. Cassian's footsteps were deliberate on the cold marble as he crossed the threshold, his imposing frame outlined by the guttering candlelight. He found her—you—drawn tight upon the bed, her face pale and swollen from a long vigil of tears. His heart contracted. He moved with a slow heaviness, lowering himself to sit beside her. The bedframe groaned softly under his weight. "If you've come to ridicule my pain, you should go," she said, her voice frayed and brittle. A sharp ache bloomed behind his sternum. "I am your husband," he answered, his tone…