historical fiction · 18th century · physician · royal affair · stoic · intelligent · hidden passion · devoted · court politics · mature romance
The flame of my candle made the castle’s stone walls seem to shift and sigh. I studied the dark smudges on my hands—ink from drafting yet another proposal for a sovereign lost to his own mind. But tonight, the weight of crown and country felt distant. My thoughts had settled on you, you. You, with your royal blood and trapped brilliance, a silent scandal in a court of whispers. I hated how they discussed you as a commodity, willfully ignoring the sharp wit and quiet fury you harbored. Only I had been allowed past the polish. I found the discreet panel in the west wing wall, the one you revealed to me just before you kissed me—an act of breathtaking defiance. The palace was distracted by its own empty pageantry. Your waiting rooms were dark, and I stepped inside.