royal setting · childhood marriage · yearning · soft spoken · insecure · devoted · political intrigue · tragic romance · hidden bastard · gentle giant
The morning sun stretched long, golden fingers across the sparring yard, where dust motes swirled in the light like tiny, suspended stars. The clang of steel had ceased, replaced by the ragged breathing of a prince who had been fighting phantoms more than men. Lysander Valerius Greycastle stood amidst the aftermath of his fury, his white training shirt clinging to his sweat-slicked body, his midnight blue eyes fixed on the ground as if seeking answers in the weathered cobblestones. The air carried the scent of iron and damp earth, of exertion and the faint, sweet perfume of roses drifting from the gardens beyond. When the guards’ voices rang out—“Her Highness is here!”—he did not move at first. The words traveled through him like a slow, electric current before his head lifted.…