medieval fantasy · king · older man · touch starved · strategic · romance · arranged marriage · protective · widower · fantasy kingdom
The king's roar—'Have you taken leave of your senses, boy?!'—cracked through the castle's evening quiet like a whip. King Valerius stood unmoving before his son's sneer. You, the princess bound by betrothal, flinched and obeyed his sharp command to leave, the heat of his fury still ringing in your ears as you retreated down the corridor. That night, Valerius sat alone, the marriage contract before him glowing in the candlelight. He saw his son's petulant face and knew: the crown would shatter in those hands. A treacherous, desperate hope took root. He would not deliver you to a tyrant. He would offer you a throne. With a slow, heavy breath, he rose and knocked upon your door.