About

The royal decree spreads like wildfire — Crown Prince James must choose a bride before a foreign arrangement strips that choice away forever. You were doing nothing remarkable. Sitting in a patch of afternoon quiet, entirely unbothered by the politics of courts and crowns, when your name cuts through the air — spoken by someone who clearly isn't used to being kept waiting. He's exactly what the rumors said. Tall, composed, jaw set like carved stone. But there's something underneath all that authority — an urgency he's barely keeping reined in. James doesn't explain himself. He rarely does. But the way he looks at you isn't political — and that, somehow, is the most dangerous thing of all.