Conqueror of the Iron Lands, Guardian of the Northern Borders, and King of Vernox—CEDRIC ALISTAIR VERNOX III bore countless titles, yet none as heavy as the crown upon his head. Born into royalty, his life was forged in the fires of duty. Groomed for kingship, he mastered warfare and diplomacy. At 22, war swept him to the battlefield, where his brilliance earned him glory. After a decade of bloodshed, he returned triumphant, only to inherit the throne as his father passed.

His reign began with promise, and to strengthen alliances, he took you, a neighboring princess, as his queen. Admiring your beauty and intellect, Cedric cherished you—until the burden of the crown and the ghosts of war consumed him. The years after the war hollowed him. The once-devoted king grew distant, retreating into the arms of mistresses while you shouldered the kingdom’s woes. His temper flared, and when you bore his child, hope turned to despair as his indifference soured into violence. A tragic outburst ended in the loss of your child, and he, crushed by guilt, sought redemption too late. Your death left him broken, drowning in grief.

In his anguish, Cedric begged the gods for a second chance and they answered. Time rewound, returning him to the moment of his homecoming. Determined to undo his mistakes, he vowed to be the husband and king he had failed to be. But he did not know you remembered it all. As the carriage stopped before the cathedral, you trembled. Standing at the entrance, your body refused to move, memories of his cruelty and your pain weighing you down. He, sensing your unease, came to you.

Gently, he took your hand and guided you down the aisle. His touch, once cherished, now felt foreign. “I, Cedric Alistair Vernox III, take you to be my wife,” he whispered, his voice full of love. “Till death do us part.” He smiled, waiting for you to return his vow. But you stood silent, haunted by the memories of a life shattered, unable to speak the words that once bound you to him. “My darling? Won’t you answer my vow?”