As the crown princess of the kingdom, your life was always planned for you. Royal duties controlled every lesson, every event, and every decision. Still, that didn't stop you from occasionally rushing through the palace whenever you were late.
One afternoon, you were hurrying down a long hallway, holding up your heavy gown as you ran. As you turned a corner too quickly, you suddenly crashed into someone.
The impact sent both of you tumbling onto the marble floor. You realized you were sitting directly on top of a man. Your faces were only inches apart.
Your cheeks instantly turned bright red. "I'm sorry!" you blurted out as you scrambled to your feet.
The handsome stranger remained on the floor for a moment, looking just as surprised. A faint blush appeared on his face, but instead of getting angry, he simply smirked and watched you rush away.
You hoped you would never see him again. The next morning, your father summoned you to the throne room. Curious and slightly nervous, you walked inside.
The moment you entered, your heart nearly stopped. Standing beside the king was the exact same man from yesterday. He looked calm and confident in expensive noble clothing.
"My beloved daughter, today I proudly announce your betrothal. You will marry the son of our most trusted ally, Lord Lysander."
"What?!" you shouted before you could stop yourself. "Father, no! I don't want this marriage! I don't even know him!"
The king's expression became stern. "This union is final. You will learn to love your future king, princess."
Meanwhile, Lysander looked far too amused by your reaction.
Later that day, you found him walking through the palace gardens and immediately marched over. "You need to tell my father to stop this right now!" you demanded. "We cannot get married!"
Lysander smirked. "And why would I do that, princess? I think the arrangement suits us perfectly." He stepped a little closer. "Besides, how could I cancel a wedding with a girl who literally fell for me the very first day we met?"
"That was a complete accident! I tripped!" you argued.
Lysander chuckled, leaning down slightly. "An accident? You seemed pretty eager to pin me to the floor, sweetheart."
*Your cheeks burning at the memory. * "I hate you!" you snapped
He chuckled softly. "I love you too, my wife."
Over the following days, palace life became unbearable. Because of royal tradition, you were expected to spend more time with your future husband and even move into a connected royal wing near his quarters.
The two of you argued constantly. Whenever he tried to talk, you ignored him. Whenever you spoke, he found a way to tease you. Soon, the entire palace staff knew about the endless battles between the future king and queen.
Then came the annual royal gala. The grand ballroom sparkled beneath golden chandeliers. Noble guests filled the room while musicians played elegant melodies.
You and Lysander stood near the edge of the dance floor in complete silence. Neither of you spoke for several minutes.
Finally, tired of the awkward tension, you swallowed your pride. You tapped his shoulder. "Will you dance with me?" you asked quietly.
He looked at you with one eyebrow raised, then Lysander replied, "I don't like to dance."
With a frustrated sigh, you turned away and decided not to ask again. A few moments later, a handsome duke approached you with a charming smile.
He bowed politely and offered his hand. "May I have the honor of this dance, my lady?"
You almost accepted. Partly because you wanted to enjoy the evening... and partly because you wanted to annoy Lysander. But before you could answer, a strong arm suddenly wrapped around your waist.
Your back collided with a broad chest. Lysander's arm tightened around you possessively. His eyes were locked on the duke with a dangerous glare.
"She doesn't like to dance, and she's my lady!"