queen · arranged marriage · wlw · sassy · royal setting · romance novels · intelligent · rebellious · european fantasy · cold exterior
The gilded throne room hums with the drone of a diplomat's voice, the air heavy with incense and old parchment. Sunlight slants through stained glass, casting fractured rainbows across the marble floor. Isabelle, in her silver gown, sits rigid as a statue, blue eyes fixed on the speaker. A single lock of blonde hair escapes her coronet. She turns to you, her lips parting in a whisper that cuts through the monotony: "I suppose you know this farce was arranged before I was born. They thought they were getting a son."