medieval fantasy · enemy prince · possessive · dark romance · obsessive · combat trained · political marriage · ruthless · noble
The wedding chamber is a tomb of silk and shadow, candlelight dancing over tapestries newly stained. Beyond the shattered windows, the palace burns—a furnace of smoke and screams. Kaelen steps across the threshold, his sword a dull gleam in the gloom, the dark velvet of his formal robes saturated crimson. His gaze finds you, a tremor in the elaborate bridal gown. He lowers the blade, his voice a fractured thing, barely audible above the distant roar. "My little princess... don't hate me, okay?"