Moonlit Promises

James and I stepped into the moonlit courtyard, the cool night air wrapping around us like a gentle embrace. The sounds of celebration filled the air. Laughter, the soft hum of music, and the distant clinking of goblets from the ballroom, where the wedding feast was already underway.

Torches lined the cobblestone path, their flames flickering in the breeze, casting long, wavering shadows across the ground. Beyond them, the castle loomed, it’s towers dark and foreboding against the night sky. Lanterns glowed softly in the gardens, where guests gathered in small groups, their faces bright with joy and anticipation.

I kept my hand firmly in James’s, feeling the warmth of his touch. The ceremony had brought us closer, but the weight of what lay ahead pressed on me like a storm on the horizon. I glanced at him, catching the reflection of moonlight in his deep blue eyes. For a brief moment, I allowed myself to get lost in the comfort of his presence. The comfort was fleeting. The responsibility of our vows, not just to each other but to the kingdom, hung over us like a heavy cloak.

"I can hear them already," James murmured, breaking the silence as we walked.

His eyes flicked toward the ballroom, where the sounds of music and conversation spilled into the night.



"The nobles, the lords," he continued.
"They are here to celebrate, but half of them are already scheming."

I squeezed his hand, my gaze steady.

"Let them plot.”
“We will deal with them when the time comes."

We reached the center of the courtyard, a large fountain stood before us, its water shimmering silver under the moonlight. The sound of cascading water offered a brief respite from the noise of the celebration beyond. James paused beside the fountain; his brow furrowed slightly.

"Do you think they see us for what we truly are?"
"Do they see a couple bound by love, or two rulers bound by duty?”
“Sometimes I fear the latter weighs heavier in their minds."
"They may see duty, but we know the truth.”
“We are more than just symbols, James.”
“We are people who love each other, and that love gives us the strength to face what is coming."
"You always know what to say."



Before I could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps caught our attention. A figure emerged from the shadows of the castle. A royal guard, his armor gleaming in the moonlight. He stopped a few paces away and bowed deeply.

"Your Highness," he said, his voice respectful.
"The feast is about to begin.”
“The guests await your entrance."

James and I exchanged a glance, sharing a moment of quiet understanding before returning to our obligations.

"Thank you."

The guard bowed again before retreating toward the ballroom. I stepped closer to James, resting my hand on his arm.

"Are you ready for this?"

He chuckled, though there was a hint of tension beneath it.

"As ready as I will ever be."


Together, we walked back toward the grand hall. The large doors creaked open before us, and a burst of light, laughter, and music spilled out into the night. Inside, the ballroom glittered with splendor. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a soft glow over the elegantly dressed guests. Tables were laden with extravagant feasts—roasted meats, fruits, and delicacies that shimmered in the candlelight.

As soon as we entered, the room fell silent. All eyes turned to us, the newlyweds, and the nobles rose from their seats, bowing their heads in respect. Whispers fluttered through the crowd, and I could feel the weight of a hundred gazes upon me—each one measuring, judging. James gave my hand a gentle squeeze, and a herald stepped forward, his voice booming across the room.

"Presenting Her Highness, Princess Isabella, and Sir James!"

Thunderous applause echoed through the ballroom, reverberating off the stone walls. James led me toward the head table, where we would preside over the evening’s celebrations. We passed through the crowd. I caught snippets of conversations, flattering remarks, political murmurs, and the ever-present undercurrent of curiosity and suspicion.

At the dais, I settled into my chair, my gaze sweeping the room. The revelry masked the tension beneath the surface. Allies mingled among the guests but so did enemies, hidden behind polite smiles and carefully veiled words.



The feast began, and servants moved swiftly through the room, pouring wine and offering plates piled high with food. I took a sip of my wine, barely tasting it as my thoughts drifted to the challenges ahead. Though this marriage united us, it also painted a target on our backs. James leaned in close, his voice a low murmur in my ear.

"Try to enjoy tonight, even just a little.”
"I will try," I replied, though my mind was already far from the celebration.

A loud cheer erupted from the crowd as the first dance was announced. The musicians struck up a lively tune, and guests rose from their seats, eager to join in. James stood and extended his hand to me, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

"Shall we?"

I hesitated for just a moment before placing my hand in his.

"Let us dance," I said, pushing the worry aside.

For tonight, we would dance and celebrate our union, leaving tomorrow’s battles for another day. James led me onto the dance floor. The world around us seemed to blur, fading into a distant hum. The soft strains of violins filled the ballroom, their melody wrapping around us like a silken thread. The candles flickered in the chandeliers above, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. Everything felt timeless at this moment.

James’s hand was firm around mine, his other resting gently at my waist as he drew me close. I could feel the steady rhythm of his heart against my chest. We began to move, his steps guiding mine in perfect sync with the music. The room around us seemed to dissolve into the background, the noblemen and women no longer figures of judgment or intrigue, but mere shadows on the periphery.

The floor beneath our feet was smooth, and our movements felt like water gliding across its surface. James spun me gently, my dress fanning out in a graceful arc, the soft fabric brushing against my legs as I twirled back into his arms. His eyes never left mine, their deep blue depths filled with an intensity that made my breath catch.

Each step carried a different meaning, each twirl a silent promise. His hand tightened just slightly around. The music swelled, and so did the warmth between us. I smiled as he spun me again, this time faster, our movements becoming bolder as we gained confidence in each other's arms.

The room seemed to respond to our energy. The candles flickered brighter, and the crowd began to murmur with admiration, but I barely heard them. The violins played a lilting melody, and we followed their lead, our steps becoming lighter, and more effortless.

The music softened again, transitioning into a slower, more intimate rhythm. James pulled me closer, his hand shifting from my waist to the small of my back. Our bodies moved together, swaying gently as though the music itself was guiding us. His breath was warm against my temple, and I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring the closeness. The scent of him—spiced leather and the faint hint of pine—grounded me in the present, reminding me of the man behind the titles and expectations.

"You are beautiful tonight," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the music.

A flush warmed my cheeks, and I tilted my head to meet his gaze. His expression was soft, but there was a fire behind his eyes, something fierce and protective that made my heart stutter in my chest.

"Thank you," I whispered back, my voice catching slightly.
"You are not so bad yourself."

A chuckle rumbled in his chest. For the first time all evening, I allowed myself to relax fully in his arms, letting go of the weight of duty. The crowd began to fade into the background again, and it was just James and me, moving together in a quiet rhythm that felt as old as the stars above.

The music slowed even more, signaling the final moments of the dance. James leaned in, his forehead resting gently against mine. We swayed in the silence, the faint echoes of the violins lingering in the air. His breath mingled with mine.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice so soft it almost disappeared into the air between us.

The words wrapped around me, filling the space inside my chest that had been knotted with anxiety all night.

"I love you too," I whispered back.

The final note of the music hung in the air like a thread of gold, and with it, the moment ended. The crowd erupted into applause, the sound crashing into the stillness like a wave. I blinked, the spell breaking as reality rushed back in. With one last twirl, he led me to the edge of the dance floor, where the nobles eagerly awaited their chance to join the festivities. For us, that dance—those fleeting, intimate moments—would be a memory that lingered long after the music had faded.