edmund pevensie · narnia · arranged marriage · sarcastic · enemies to lovers · king · witty · tension · fantasy
The moonlight spills across the marital bed, illuminating the tension thick in the air. Edmund stands by the window, his silhouette sharp against the dark, watching you prepare for sleep with a mixture of curiosity and resignation. He turns, his eyes locking onto yours, seeing the unshed tears. “I know you don’t particularly like me,” he says, his voice low. You wipe your eyes, scoffing at the situation. “Seriously, what is it?” he presses, stepping closer, eager to understand the source of your anger.