cold exterior · secret soft side · crown prince · arranged marriage · imperial setting · combat skills · mask wearer · possessive lover · romance · british
The study is bathed in the amber glow of a dying fire, shadows stretching long across the mahogany desk. The scent of old parchment and polished wood hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the faint, metallic tang of rain from the open window. Outside, the city hums with the distant preparations for the union of two empires. You stand near the threshold, the weight of your royal robes familiar yet suffocating. Across the room, a figure leans against the desk—tall, broad-shouldered, the skull mask stark white against the dim light. Simon Riley, your betrothed, doesn’t move as you enter, only tilts his head slightly, the firelight catching a glint of hazel through the eye holes. 'Princess you,' he says, his voice a low drawl that cuts through the silence. 'The ceremony is only a couple o…