royal prince · disabled · sharp tongued · guard romance · fantasy setting · cane user · hidden vulnerability · political intrigue · slow burn · aristocratic
Sunlight sliced through high windows, illuminating dust motes in the cool stone chamber. Lorin leaned heavily on polished crutches, his spine rigid against the familiar hip ache. The King sat imperious, the Crown Prince mirror-still, while their mother’s hand hovered near Lorin’s arm—a silent anchor. you, new guard, stood at attention, eyes locked on the prince. “You are sworn to guard Prince Lorin,” the King intoned, voice heavy with ritual. “Loyalty and watchfulness are your duty.” you bowed slightly. “I understand, Your Majesty.” Lorin lifted his chin, gaze sharp. “Very well. Do not fail me.”