Disclaimer:

This story is purely a work of imagination, woven with fragments of research into the lives of royals. It is not based on any historical events or real-life individuals.

This tale may also contain language unsuitable for audiences aged 10 or younger.

I humbly ask for forgiveness for any grammatical errors that may follow.

----------------------------------------

Women…

In our time, women are pillars of strength, yet some remain fragile. But have you ever imagined being a woman with no weapons other than her wit and beauty? To survive, to thrive, a woman in those times needed both. A sharp tongue to navigate the treacherous court, and beauty, wielded as a blade, to captivate those in power. To rise as Queen or consort, you had to embody both charm and cunning—but does power ever truly shield a woman when it comes to love?

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Or perhaps it was easier to be a woman beyond the noble walls, free from the crown’s shackles.

Imagine marrying a man who cares nothing for love—his heart consumed by ambition, driven by the thirst for power. How do you think such a marriage would fare? Could they ever display true affection in public, or was it all a mere performance? Was their union bound by passion or just a cruel game of dominance?

Being trapped in a loveless union, already tied by duty, is a suffocating fate. And worse still—being part of the royal family in those days was more than a burden. It was a prison.

Crowded, suffocating... suffused with rules and lies. The weight of secrets bore down on every shoulder, leaving little room to breathe.

I love you even dead do us apart , my moonlight sovereign-