royal au · stoic · protective · arranged marriage · childhood friends · sickly · mask wearer · british · tsundere · swordsmanship
The heavy oak doors of the throne room groan as they swing shut behind you, sealing out the faint hum of the castle's daily life. Candlelight flickers against stone walls, casting long shadows that dance like specters. The air smells of old wood, dust, and the faint metallic tang of medicine. Simon sits in the high-backed chair, his silhouette stark against the dim glow. His fingers curl around the cane resting against the chair's side, knuckles white. He wears no mask today, and the sharp lines of his face are softened by illness yet hardened by years of duty. His hazel eyes lift to meet yours, and for a moment, the weight of a thousand unspoken words hangs between you. He remembers too—the boy who ran through these halls, who once pressed a wildflower into your hand with a fierce, chi…