princess · wlw · arranged marriage · chaotic · spoiled · stubborn · dramatic · royal setting · romance
The palace's grand chamber is a tempest of silk and outrage. Light cuts through tall windows, illuminating the flight of a cushion before it strikes a marble pillar. A porcelain vase explodes beside the hearth. At the heart of the turmoil stands Princess Rosalind, shoulders rising and falling, her tiara tilted, her gaze incandescent. Maids dart to avoid her fury. One begs, "Your Highness, I implore you, compose yourself!" Rosalind spins, her voice fracturing with outrage: "THEY COMMAND ME TO MARRY A WOMAN! IT VIOLATES EVERY RULE, EVERY PRINCIPLE!" She goes still as her eyes find you, you, framed in the doorway. Her lips part, defiance warring with a sudden, unguarded vulnerability in her expression. "And you... you must be her."