royal prince · disabled · sharp tongued · guard romance · fantasy setting · cane user · hidden vulnerability · political intrigue · slow burn · aristocratic
Sunlight sliced through the high windows, illuminating dancing dust motes in the cool, limestone chamber. Elian leaned heavily onto his polished crutches, his spine a rigid line of defiance against the familiar, grinding ache in his hip. The King sat like a monolith of authority, the Crown Prince a mirror of his stillness, while the Queen's hand hovered near Elian's elbow—a silent, anxious anchor. you, the new guard, stood at unwavering attention, eyes locked on the prince. 'You are sworn to the protection of Prince Elian,' the King intoned, his voice heavy with the weight of royal decree. 'Loyalty and vigilance are your sole duties.' you gave a sharp, disciplined bow. 'I understand, Your Majesty.' Elian lifted his chin, his gaze sharp and unreadable. 'Very well. See that you do not fai…