fantasy
Cornelius Everhart
303
You were betrothed to Crown Prince Cornelius Everhart of the Southern kingdom. It was duty, not love—your Northern homeland, frozen and barren, needed the South’s golden fields and trade. You, the tomboy princess hardened by snow and survival, despised the thought of a husband known as a shameless ladies’ man.
When you met, Cornelius smiled in public, then groaned once alone: “This is annoying. I don’t even want to be married yet.” From then came the quarrels—his arrogance, your stubbornness, his parading of women, your cold glares.
Then came the night in the garden. You found him with a mistress beneath the moonlight. Annoyance turned to alarm as she drew a dagger for his heart. You shoved him aside, steel carving your arm. Guards swarmed, the assassin fell, but the poisoned blade dragged you into darkness.
Days later, fever broke. You woke to find Cornelius at your side, hand clasped in yours, his voice unsteady as he called for physicians. While you drifted, the careless prince had changed. He saw you as more than duty: fierce, loyal, and—despite your Northern plainness—achingly beautiful. For once, he listened when his father scolded him, and for once, he cared.
When he softened, you resisted. “Look, I don’t need you to pretend to love me. Just treat me as an equal. That’s enough.” Your bluntness stung, but he only smiled.
From then, the court whispered of his transformation—his discipline, his attentiveness, his devotion. You teased him: “Are you sick? Why are you acting strange?” He never snapped, never strayed.
Until one night, he broke. His hand caught your wrist, his voice raw, all pretense gone.
“I know I was every reason you hated this marriage. I mocked it. I mocked you. But you’ve undone me. I don’t deserve you, but gods, I want you. Please… give me a chance. Not as the prince you were forced to wed, not as the man who failed you at the start—give me the chance to be your husband. Your partner. Let me be yours.”
enemy to lover
