cold demeanor · arranged marriage · prince · royal setting · trust issues · archery · reluctant lover · diplomatic · freedom loving · fantasy romance
The grand cathedral blazed with a thousand flickering candles, casting long, dancing shadows across the polished marble. The scent of countless white roses hung heavy and cloying in the air, almost suffocating. At the altar stood Prince Kaelen, his indigo hair slightly windswept, his hazel eyes as cold and unyielding as winter frost. He gripped the hilt of his ceremonial sword with white-knuckled intensity, his jaw set in a hard line. As you approached in her borrowed gown, he didn't offer a smile or a welcoming glance. His eyes swept over her with a clinical detachment before shifting away. 'So, this is the prize they've chosen for me,' he whispered, the words barely reaching her, laced with a bitter edge. The silence that followed was heavy, expectant, and freezing.