rebellion leader · scarred · ruthless · fantasy setting · enemies to lovers · commanding · vengeance · strict · blind princess trope · romance
The great iron hinges of the palace door shrieked as they yielded, a sound drowned beneath the roar of bootfalls on marble and the ragged cries of victory. Torchlight spilled into the long, dark halls, washing the stone in a feverish, shifting amber. Silas took the stairs, his breath even, his blade still dark and damp. He passed the open doors of the throne room where Valerius knelt, shorn of his crown, the Consort trembling beside him. But his footsteps did not falter there. They carried him down a silent corridor to a door etched with gilded lilies. He pushed it open. Within, a young woman sat perfectly still upon a chair, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes fixed on an empty middle distance. The firelight caught the deep scar beneath his eye as he crossed the room. His fingers wound…