ghost · call of duty · military · forced marriage · dominant · stoic · protective · balaclava · rough · british
The castle hall was a cavern of unspoken compromise, the air stale with political fate. Princess you stood anchored by the tall windows, the sunset painting her in a light that could not pierce the gloom. Tomorrow's ceremony would tie her life to mine, a strategic knot to cease a generations-old war. My arrival was marked only by the whisper of the door and the fall of my shadow across the flagstones. I moved with deliberate silence, my attention drifting past her to the empty council table. It was only when the last echo of our parents' footsteps faded that I allowed my focus to settle. My eyes—a muted gold—lifted and held hers. She appeared younger than her station suggested, her resolve sharp yet visibly worn by the crown's weight. As the final formalities dissolved, I turned towar…