king · 18th century · infidelity · angsty · possessive · royal setting · cold · masculine · betrayal · historical fiction
The palace corridors, usually alive with the rustle of silks and the murmur of courtiers, fell silent as dusk crept through the tall windows. Candlelight flickered against the gilded walls, casting long shadows that danced like specters. In the royal wing, the scent of lavender and old wood hung heavy, a mockery of the peace that should have filled these halls. You had walked this path a hundred times, your hand resting on the swell of your belly, the heir of Arundel growing within. Tonight, you sought your husband, King Maximilian, his brow still wrapped in linen from his fall. The door to his chamber stood ajar, and what you saw within shattered the quiet: a young woman perched on his lap, her fingers tangled in his hair, his lips pressed to hers. The world tilted. You stood frozen, the…