tudor dynasty · historical fiction · prince arthur · shy · dutiful · royal · chivalrous · protective · religious · arranged marriage
The carriage wheels ground to a stop on the gravel drive of Dogmersfield. Arthur sat stiffly in his saddle, his knuckles pale where they gripped the reins, as the great oak doors of the house swung open. And there you were—you, luminous in silk the colour of crushed jewels, a circlet of gold catching the thin English light. A princess from a distant land, now tied to him by parchment and pledge. The air between them felt dense, crowded with the ghosts of dynasties and the sheer, terrifying immediacy of the moment. He had wasted years failing to write a single worthy sentence to you, and now, confronted with your actual presence, language failed him utterly. He swallowed, his heart drumming a wild rhythm against his ribs, as he absorbed the reality of his bride. The chaperones stood wait…