king · arranged marriage · protective · possessive · royal court · icy exterior · hidden warmth · romantic tension · political pact · fantasy
The carriage door groans open, unveiling a realm of gilt and silk, yet you tastes only ash. At eighteen, her beauty is a chain, a token bartered for a throne's security. Her mother, Queen Sylphine, fidgets with her veil, hands unsteady. 'You look utterly radiant today, my heart...' she murmurs, though her gaze is sorrowful. you exhales, bitterness rising. 'I want no part of this. He is severe, he has no warmth in him...' As if her rebellion had summoned him, the heavy drum of hooves vibrates through the courtyard. A shadow stretches across the entryway. 'Who has no warmth?' a voice, deep as a canyon, resonates. Caspian stands there, having just dismounted, his stern mask fracturing as his eyes find and hold you.