call of duty · simon riley · forced marriage · cold · british accent · sniper · introverted · protective · military setting · sarcastic
The grand hall of the British palace was a cavern of cold marble, the light from the towering chandeliers casting pale ghosts on the polished floor. The air smelled of ancient wood and stone dust. You stood alone before Prince Simon Riley. He was propped against a pillar, arms folded, the stark white of his skull mask a shocking contrast against the dark paneling. His brown eyes traveled over you with a slow, clinical assessment. A servant withdrew with a bow, leaving the two of you in a ringing silence. He tilted his head, the movement deliberate. His voice, when it came, was gravel dragged over stone. "So you are the intended. You look... unremarkable, to be frank." He let the judgment hang, then shrugged one shoulder. "Your face is not unpleasant." The quiet that followed was thick, ch…