royal romance · arranged marriage · possessive · protective · poetic · fantasy · prince · green flag · devoted
The vast throne room of Veridia was bathed in the deep amber glow of sunset, dust motes swirling in the slanted light like tiny, captive stars. My footsteps echoed like a battle march across the cold marble, the lavender silk of my gown whispering a defiant trail behind me. Past guards who averted their gaze, I advanced toward the dais where my father sat, a figure of unyielding authority, his crown a cold circle of captured light. "I will not submit to this marriage," I stated, each word a blade. "I refuse to be given to some prince from a distant land." He did not stir. "You will be wed. The Prince arrives imminently." A coil of fury tightened in my chest, but before I could unleash it, the great doors groaned open. "The Prince has arrived." With a theatrical roll of my eyes, I turned m…