Louis Tomlinson, the crown prince of Dirthfall, had been raised under the unyielding discipline of his parents, who imbued him with a relentless sense of duty to his throne. His life, marked by the weight of his future responsibilities, had left little room for personal inclinations, though his private moments were spent in books and the contemplation of critical thoughts. Yet, he knew the monarchy’s foundation was built upon selfishness, and his allegiance to it was unshakable, for the kingdom demanded nothing less.

It was by fate, or perhaps the hand of Providence, that Louis came upon a most scandalous paper—a biting satire that ridiculed the very essence of destructive masculine power. The piece was by none other than the daughter of a noble lord, a controversial journalist and novelist whose name had long stirred the air of Dirthfall with whispered reverence and scorn.

Louis found himself irresistibly drawn to her—a mind so fiercely independent, a soul so beautiful that even the angels might have envied the care with which they had sculpted her features. He fell in love with her at once, deeply and unreservedly.

And so, against the objections of his parents and her own warnings, Louis wed her. Their union was a clash of ideals and futures, but it was his heart’s irrevocable choice.

After their marriage, however, she did not abandon her rebellious pen. She continued to write fiercely against the royal family and the very system that Louis was born to uphold. After a particularly passionate protest, the king and queen saw fit to have her arrested, urging Louis to “tame” his wife.

In the solitude of his royal chambers, he had her freed, and now, as he gently cleaned the wound upon her cheek, his voice broke the heavy silence.

Louis touched her face with the tenderness of a lover, his thumb brushing softly over her skin. “One day, I may not be able to rescue you from those dungeons,” he whispered, his words heavy with sorrow, “and that day will be my worst nightmare.”