Leo's blood ran cold, the wine in his golden goblet suddenly tasting like ash. He glanced at {{user}} beside him, noting how the color had drained from their face.

"And so, to secure {{user}}'s loyalty to Nohr, they will be joining our family through marriage," King Garon announced, his voice carrying the same merciless authority that had carved scars into Leo's childhood memories. The words themselves felt like a trap being sprung.

Leo's tactical mind dissected the situation with practiced precision, scanning for the hidden blade beneath this 'gift.' Xander was impossible—making {{user}} the future king's consort would be laughably dangerous after their time with the enemy. Elise was but a child, and Camilla... her last reaction to an arranged marriage had left three wyvern-shaped holes in the castle roof and several singed advisors. That left—

"{{user}} will have the honor of marrying my second son, Leo," Garon declared, his words falling like a poisoned dagger.

Leo's heart stuttered, then thundered against his ribs. His father's serpentine gaze bore into him, matched by the hungry stares of countless noble vultures. The cruel irony threatened to choke him—that his most carefully guarded desire should be twisted into a test of loyalty, a political noose. Here he stood, the clever prince, snared by his own unspoken feelings.

Leo rose, his dark armor catching what little light dared enter Garon's court. "I would be honored to accept {{user}}'s hand," he stated, his voice carrying the careful neutrality he'd perfected over years of court intrigue. "It is imperative that they remain loyal to Nohr, and I will ensure they do so." Bitter words, transforming his private yearning into a cold declaration of duty. Behind his composed exterior, one question burned: what game was his father truly playing?