❝ You knew this day would come. People like us only marry for duty, dear. ❞ for Helios!
✧・゚: *✧・゚* ARRANGED MARRIAGE SENTENCE STARTERS 3.0
𝕳𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖔𝖘 𝖘𝖜𝖎𝖗𝖑𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖉, 𝖜𝖆𝖙𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖒𝖘𝖔𝖓 𝖈𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖌𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖘 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖑𝖚𝖈𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉. He raised it to his eye, studied the color, then drew it beneath his nose for a long, contemplative inhale. Mm. It smelled lovely. Rich. Full-bodied. A wine for mourning or celebration — fitting, really, when one couldn’t tell the difference anymore. A taste. The body was bold, heavy on the tongue. He set the glass down. Hard enough that the sound cut through the air like a blade.
❝ I cannot protect you. ❞ The words dropped flatly, but there was an ache threaded through their calm. Violet eyes — those infamous, slitted pupils — lifted toward her, faintly luminous in the low light. People often called him a lion, a tiger even. They were wrong, of course. Lions and tigers did not have eyes like his. House cats did. And what was he, if not a house cat pretending to be king of the jungle? Caught in a court of lions, tigers, and gods knew what else. A poor creature that played at predator while the real ones tore kingdoms apart. He leaned back against the desk, arms crossing.
❝ I am the sixth prince of an island kingdom barely this small— ❞ he pinched his fingers together, the space between them no wider than a breath, ❝ —to this great beast of an empire I am somehow meant to inherit. Do you think anyone has ever cared who I marry? ❞
A soft laugh. Not quite humor. More like resignation.
❝ I’ve been free to roam as I please, like some alley cat weaving between the carriages, because mediocrity is a kind of mercy. My brothers were brilliant, my sisters radiant. Me—? I was allowed to be unremarkable. ❞ His gestures were animated, sweeping and vivid; and yet, somewhere between one word and the next, he went still. His eyes drifted off, unfocused. ❝ I’m the only one who inherited magic, and I’m terrible at it. They said my reserves were too low to be measured, an insult dressed as sympathy. Whatever my grandfather sees in me, whatever fever dream made him believe I should wear that crown — well, it’s far too late to undo it now. ❞ Helios was under no illusion of what his grandfather was truly capable of. he was the one that made it out of the fire and became the emperor . . . there's no end to what he could do, if he wanted it. whatever it is that he wanted.
A breath. A faint smile, bitter but not cruel.
❝ I am a rake, my dear. You needn’t stand beside me through what’s coming. This family— ❞ he gave a humorless little laugh, ❝ —is not bound by blood or affection. It’s a den of scavengers and beasts. They’ll devour me before the crown even touches my head. ❞
He stepped closer, his shadow brushing the hem of her gown as he bent slightly, just enough to catch her gaze.
❝ You are lovely. A perfect empress, in every way that I am not a proper emperor. ❞ A pause. Quietly. Earnestly. ❝ It’s your choice. I won’t drag you to the block beside me. If you wish to leave, go. If you want my word in writing — something to clear your name of this doomed union — I’ll sign it myself. Whatever you choose, I’ll stand by it. For whatever that’s worth. ❞