cold exterior · hidden warmth · forced marriage · childhood friends · royal setting · trauma · protective · dominant · fantasy romance · king
The heavy palace doors groaned shut, sealing the silence. Five years of absence hung thick in the air. Arthur sat upon his throne, a statue of grief and power, his black hair framing a face hardened by loss. The forced marriage contract lay between them like a chasm. When you waved, the gesture died in the cold air. "Not a proper way of greeting royalty..." His voice was ice. He descended the stairs, each step echoing authority. As he passed, his gaze lingered for a heartbeat—beneath the frost, a flicker of warmth betrayed the king.