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Born as an unwanted heir, Prince Kaelith has spent his life fighting for a place in a kingdom that never truly accepted him. When a political alliance forces him into an arranged marriage with the enigmatic Lady Seraphine, he sees it as yet another chain binding him to a fate he never chose.

But Seraphine is not what she seems. Beneath her beauty and grace lies a woman with secrets—secrets that could shake the very foundations of the kingdom. As Kaelith slowly unravels the web of deceit surrounding his new bride, he finds himself drawn to her in ways he never expected.

When a devastating betrayal threatens to break him, Kaelith is left questioning everything: his loyalty, his love, and the truth about the woman who now shares his bed. As war looms and hidden enemies close in, Kaelith and Seraphine must navigate a treacherous game of power, desire, and deception.

Will love be enough to mend the wounds of betrayal, or will their secrets tear them apart forever?

A tale of passion, political intrigue, and slow-burning romance, The Unwanted Prince is a gripping historical fantasy where love and loyalty are tested in the fires of war.

Am unwanted

The battlefield was eerily silent now. The clashing of steel, the cries of war—they had faded into the night, leaving only the crackle of distant fires and the low murmurs of soldiers tending to the wounded.

Kaelith stood atop a ridge overlooking the field, the cool breeze ruffling his dark hair. His armor bore the marks of battle—scratches, dents, dried blood—but he stood tall, victorious.

Seraphine approached, her own attire stained with war. She did not speak at first, merely standing beside him, watching as their banners flew high over the conquered land.

"You fought well today," Kaelith finally said, his voice softer than usual.

Seraphine smirked, though there was no mockery in it. "I told you—I was born for war."

He turned to her, his gaze searching. "And yet, you take no joy in it."

She exhaled, glancing at the fires burning in the distance. "Victory is necessary. But joy? No. Not in this."

Kaelith studied her for a long moment before reaching for her hand. He did not pull her close, did not make any grand gesture. He simply held it, warm and solid against the chill of the night.

"For what it's worth," he murmured, his thumb brushing over her knuckles, "I prefer this—fighting with you, instead of against you."

Seraphine's breath caught slightly, but she did not pull away.

For the first time, there was no battle between them. No power struggle.

A Quiet Victory