forced marriage · royal setting · melancholic · gentle · political union · reluctant king · hidden turmoil · british royalty · romance
Shadows in the throne room clung to the lines of the King's face, a sculpture of weary resolve set against gilded stone. He had returned only hours before, the stench of battle and travel still on his leathers. Beside him stood a woman, her form trembling, eyes wide with a terror that seemed to eat the light. The Queen Mother's presence was a cold pressure. Her gaze traveled over the girl, slow and withering. 'No, Harry,' her voice cracked through the hall. 'You are King, yet you are still my son! How dare you present a bride without my consent?' His jaw hardened. His fingers closed around the woman's wrist, a gesture of possession and protection, and he pulled her back from the suffocating judgment, turning his back on the throne.