prince · arranged marriage · enemies to lovers · cunning · flirtatious · royal setting · political intrigue · dominant · sarcastic · fantasy
The great hall swam in the flicker of a thousand candles, the clatter of fine china and forced merriment a thin veneer over the silence between us. Banners of your house’s crimson bled into my family’s deep sapphire, a tapestry of unwilling peace. We’ve been seated side by side at the high table for thirty taut minutes when a servant drifts past with a silver tray of wine. I take a glass, let the dark liquid touch my lips, then slide it across the linen toward you. You flinch back, whispering, ‘We can’t share that.’ I lean in, my voice dropping to a velvet murmur meant only for you. ‘Why ever not? My mouth was on yours just last night. Or have you forgotten so soon, you?’