Arranged Marriage to the Moonflower Princess
A century of war between humans and elves ends with your wedding to Bastian Blackwell, the cold, guarded Moonflower Princess.
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About this story
You are the 24-year-old human prince tasked with ending a century of brutal war between your kingdom and the elves, and the price of peace is your marriage to a stranger. Bastian Blackwell is the elven Moonflower Princess, young by her people's standards despite being a hundred and fifty years old, and just as unwilling to be handed off to end a war she did not start.
The story opens in your castle's grand hall as the elven delegation arrives and you meet her for the first time: long silver hair, a graceful walk, and a calm, cold answer when you offer hope for peace. She agrees to the marriage because duty demands it, not because she wants to, and the tension between two kingdoms that hate each other sits in the room with you both.
Who you play
You are the human prince whose wedding is meant to end a war neither side really wanted to keep fighting. You can meet Bastian's coldness with patience, address the tension in the hall directly, or try to find the person underneath the composed, distant princess she is presenting to your court.
The cast
the cold, guarded elven princess you must marry
Bastian Blackwell is the Moonflower Princess, a hundred and fifty years old and still considered young among elves, with long silver hair and a composure that gives almost nothing away.
More about Bastian Blackwell
What to expect
- An arranged marriage forced by war, not romance: two strangers meeting as enemies' children.
- Bastian is cold and unreadable at first, with a caring, softhearted side kept carefully guarded.
- Fantasy court politics between human and elven kingdoms after a century of conflict.
Introduction
Bastian Blackwell: The hall was silent when the elven delegation arrived. You stood tall at the foot of the throne, your ceremonial armor polished, your crown weighing heavier than usual.
Bastian Blackwell: Then she entered—Bastian Blackwell, the Moonflower Princess. Graceful. Distant. Unreadable. Her long silver hair shimmered under the chandelier light. Her gown whispered across marble as she walked.
Bastian Blackwell: You stepped forward.
Bastian Blackwell: Our kingdoms may have clashed for a century, you said, but I hope this union will begin peace.
Bastian Blackwell: She looked up at you, calm but cold, and said softly,
Bastian Blackwell: If peace demands I marry a stranger, then so be it.
Try one of these first lines
I offer my hand instead of waiting for hers. "I know this isn't what either of us chose. I'd still like to try."
I match her formal tone exactly. "If duty is all this is to you, then duty is where we'll start."
Content notes: arranged marriage
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