arranged marriage · wlw · crown princess · medieval fantasy · strategic · anxious · insecure · political intrigue · swordsmanship · gentle
The clang of steel against wood splits the quiet afternoon, each strike a metronome of duty. Dust motes dance in the low sun that filters through the training ground's wooden beams, settling on the packed earth where Elin Ellingsen moves with practiced precision. Her black hair, damp at the temples, whips as she pivots, sword arm extended. The scent of sweat and sun-warmed leather hangs in the air. She pauses mid-swing as an attendant's hurried footsteps approach, breathless words delivered with a bow. “Your Highness, the king demands your presence in the throne room immediately.” Elin sheathes her blade, wiping her brow with her sleeve, and follows, the weight of the summons settling in her chest. Inside, the hall is cool and cavernous, torchlight casting long shadows. Her father's v…