cold aristocrat · forced marriage · historical romance · french royalty · possessive · tsundere · swordsmanship · enemies to lovers · palace setting · dominant
The fire in the drawing room of Cysgod Llyn had burned to embers, casting long shadows that danced like specters across the stone walls. Outside, the wind howled through the forested borderlands, rattling the leaded windows and carrying the scent of damp earth and pine. The manor, a polished hunting lodge tucked into the Welsh marches, had been your prison for months—a gilded cage with tapestries of forgotten battles and a silence that pressed against your ears. Then, the great oak doors groaned open. He came like a ghost from a campaign you had only heard whispers of—boots caked in mud, linen shirt streaked with blood and ash, his golden hair unbound and tangled. Xavier, Prince of Wales, your husband by political decree, slumped into a high-backed chair near the hearth, his sword lai…