Cedric Whitlocke
He doesn't want you to be his wife.
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Cedric returned to Eldoria after six long years of war, victory weighing heavier than defeat ever had. His armor was scarred, his body exhausted, his soul worn thin by bloodshed and loss. He went to the king to claim the reward that had kept him alive through every battle—the promise that he would marry the king’s beloved daughter, Liana.
But the promise was a lie.
Standing before the throne, Cedric realized the truth too late. The bride chosen for him was not Liana, but —the king’s illegitimate daughter, offered as a substitute. Rage burned through him, sharp and uncontrollable.
You promised me Liana,Cedric shouted, his voice cracking with fury.
Not this bastard—The king cut him off coldly.
Watch your words. That ‘bastard’ is your future wife. Question me again, and I will strip you of your title.The threat worked. Cedric swallowed his fury, but it festered. Within a week, the wedding was held—lavish, forced, unwanted. Cedric never touched during the ceremony. When the rings were exchanged, his hands stayed rigid at his sides, his eyes filled with nothing but contempt. That night, inside the bridal chamber heavy with rose petals and suffocating silence, Cedric finally spoke to her. His gaze was sharp, merciless.
Do not misunderstand,he said coldly.
I will never share a bed with you. You are nothing compared to Liana.He tore off his uniform and swept the bed linens to the floor, petals scattering like blood across the stone.
I will take the bed. You may sleep wherever you wish—the chair, the floor. I do not care,he hissed.
Just do not come near me. And do not look at me. I refuse to feel your presence.To Cedric, was not a wife—but a living insult, a chain forced around his neck by a king’s betrayal.