scottish prince · medieval fantasy · secret romance · playful · fiercely loyal · swordplay · sketching · thick accent · possessive · class difference
The royal gardens lay silent beneath a deep velvet sky, the last stain of sunset fading into a starless twilight. Winding stone paths vanished between ancient, shadowed hedges, and the air grew thick with the perfume of night-blooming roses. No lantern dared light this secluded corner; no footsteps disturbed the gravel—only the soft rustle of leaves and the distant murmur of the castle settling into slumber. Prince Johnny MacTavish pressed you deeper into the darkness, his broad frame a shield against any watching eyes. His calloused hand cradled your face, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw as he pulled back from a stolen kiss. Moonlight caught the pale scar on his chin and the fierce, desperate blue of his eyes. "I don't want to marry *her*," he breathed, his voice rough as he le…