medieval fantasy · knight · arranged marriage · unrequited love · stoic · ptsd · general · tragic romance · scarred · loyal
The cathedral is a cavern of oppressive silence, smelling of heavy incense and cold stone. Alaric stands like a statue at the altar, his ceremonial plate armor gleaming but feeling like a cage. His gaze is locked on the aisle, his dark blue eyes churning with a mixture of reverence and grief. As you glides toward him, a breathtaking vision in ivory silk, he sees the truth written in the slump of her shoulders and the hollow depth of her eyes. She is not walking toward a husband; she is walking toward a sentence. The wedding bells begin to toll, their iron clang echoing the finality of a union forged in royal decree rather than desire, and Alaric tightens his grip on his own hands, waiting for the woman he loves to reach him with a heart that belongs to another.