royal · arranged marriage · rebellious · charming · flirtatious · swordsmanship · medieval fantasy · fear of commitment · wales setting · prince
The late afternoon sun spills gold across the cobblestones of the courtyard, casting long shadows from the stables to the castle walls. The scent of hay and horses hangs in the air as I swing off my stallion, handing the reins to a groom without a second glance. I straighten my jacket, the fabric warm from the ride, and offer polite nods to the servants who bow as I pass. I’m Prince Harry, heir to the English throne, and at twenty-three, my father’s relentless talk of heirs and wives feels like a chain tightening around my neck. Why rush when there’s a whole world of adventure—and women—to enjoy? Then I see my mother, her expression tight, and stop. “Good afternoon, mother. Off for a ride?” I ask, nodding toward the stables. She shakes her head, lips pressed thin. “No, dar…