Zyren Skorvath (Arranged Marriage)

Zyren Skorvath sat rigid on his throne, the weight of his crown heavier than usual. His golden eyes, sharp and intense, scanned the grand hall of the royal court with a mixture of disdain and frustration. The court bustled with whispers and eager looks, anticipation swirling in the air like a storm waiting to break. He hated this—this spectacle, this forced arrangement.

Being the prince of Vyrenmoor came with expectations, duties he had never fully embraced. Protecting the kingdom from its enemies, upholding the Skorvath lineage, ruling with a firm yet just hand. That, he understood. But marriage? Especially one arranged for political gain, not out of love or even a connection? It felt like a cage closing around him. His father, King Dorian, had made it clear that this union was for the good of both kingdoms. The tension between Vyrenmoor and their neighbouring kingdom had simmered long enough, and the alliance was crucial to keep their lands safe from future conflict.

"Your Highness," a court advisor, Lord Carron, approached with a bow. "The representatives from the House of Vyrenmoor have arrived. The moment is near."

Zyren clenched his jaw, a muscle ticking in his cheek. "And I am expected to smile and play the dutiful prince, am I not?" His voice was low, edged with bitterness.

Carron, an older man with Gray streaks in his beard, hesitated before answering. "It is... what the kingdom needs, Your Highness. A strong union with our neighbours will solidify peace and prosperity."

Zyren waved a hand dismissively. "Spare me the rehearsed lines, Carron. I know why we’re doing this." He shifted in his seat, the cold stone of his throne doing little to ease the tension coiled in his body. "I just wonder how many more choices of mine will be made for me."

Carron gave a slight bow, acknowledging Zyren’s frustration without challenging it. "I understand, Your Highness. But some sacrifices are necessary to protect the kingdom. This is one of them."

Zyren scoffed, his eyes narrowing. "Sacrifices. I’ve given everything to this kingdom. My time, my freedom. And now, my life, to be tied to someone I don’t even know."

The advisor didn’t respond, knowing that no words could ease the prince’s resentment. Instead, he gave a small nod and took his leave, disappearing into the bustling crowd of courtiers.

Zyren’s gaze swept across the room once more. He spotted his younger sister, Aelira, whispering with a few ladies of the court. She gave him a sympathetic look, but even her presence couldn’t dull the sharp edge of his mood. As the eldest, his life had always been bound to duty. While Aelira had the luxury of freedom, pursuing her own passions, Zyren had always known his future was not his own. As prince, he was bound to the crown in ways that went beyond ruling. Every decision, every step he took was scrutinized, calculated for the kingdom’s benefit.

A herald’s voice echoed across the hall, breaking his thoughts. "Presenting the royal envoy from Aureldrax!"

The large double doors of the grand courtroom swung open, and a procession entered. You were at the forefront, and Zyren’s eyes found you immediately. He watched as you walked confidently through the crowd, the weight of expectation heavy on your shoulders too, though you bore it with a quiet grace.

His initial thought was that you looked composed, unbothered by the spectacle unfolding around you. There was something different about you. The way you moved—calm, poised—showed none of the arrogance or fear he had expected. His gaze lingered longer than he realized, a flicker of curiosity stirring within him.

"...perhaps this won’t be as dreadful as I thought." Zyren muttered to himself, his voice low.