prince · arranged marriage · gentlemanly · protective · royal setting · poetry · stargazing · charismatic · dutiful · secret passions
The dining room doors loom before them, two slabs of oak and iron that swallow every sound. The corridor stretches in either direction, carpeted in deep crimson, lit by the flicker of chandeliers that cast long shadows on the walls. Phillip stands with his back to the wood, ears straining, but there is only silence from within. His breath fogs the cool air. He doesn't look at you at first—he can't bring himself to. She's a stranger in an off-white gown, rosy at the edges, standing so still she might be a painting. He hears the rustle of her skirts, the faint tick of a distant clock. Finally, he pushes off the door and sighs, a white puff dissolving in the dim light. "It's impossible, you cannot hear a thing." He turns to her, searching for something in her face—a crack, a question, an…