Noah was never meant to stand near a throne.
Born under a prophecy others refused to name aloud, he learned early that survival meant stillness-measured breath, careful words, and the discipline of making himself small enough not to draw attention. In a world that reads omens in faces and danger in bloodlines, Noah existed not as a person, but as a problem to be managed.
That changes the day he is married.
Bound to a prince whose loyalty is carved from steel and silence, Noah enters a court where marriage is not a vow but a strategy, and intimacy is another form of surveillance. The wedding binds him into power he never asked for, watched by nobles who weigh every gesture for weakness, and whispered about by those who believe prophecy must eventually demand a cost.
Lucien, the man now called his husband, is not cruel. He is precise. Raised to endure scrutiny and wield control as protection, Lucien offers safety through rules, distance, and an unyielding grip on the space around Noah. What begins as restraint wears the shape of care-until Noah can no longer tell where protection ends and possession begins.
As the court tightens around them, Noah is drawn into a web of quiet negotiations, unspoken threats, and alliances that smile while they sharpen their knives. Kindness is offered without touch. Hope arrives without guarantees. And every choice is framed as necessary, reasonable, inevitable.
Between prophecy and politics, trust becomes a risk neither man can afford, yet cannot survive without.
The Wedding of Blades is a dark romantasy of slow-burning tension and emotional restraint, where power speaks softly, love is entangled with control, and survival depends on understanding the cost of being chosen-or refusing to be. This is a story about marriage as a weapon, loyalty as a cage, and the dangerous space between safety and freedom.
Because in this court, no bond is neutral.
And every blade is drawn long before blood is spilled.
