The Winter White Gloves

The Winter White Gloves

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WpMetadataReadOngoing11h 2m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Aug 25, 2026
WpInfo
Fiction
Historical
19th Century
Royalty
Romance
The Winter White Gloves On a freezing winter evening, while returning from her aunt's estate, the princess's carriage was attacked in the middle of the snow-covered woods. Before fear could consume her completely, a stranger appeared from the storm and saved her life. She never saw his face clearly. Never heard his name. All she remembered were the winter white gloves covering his hands as he held hers for a brief moment before disappearing into the night. From that day onward, the memory of those white gloves haunted her heart. As danger around the royal family slowly grows, the king appoints a new royal guard to stay beside the princess at all times - cold, distant, disciplined, and impossible to read. Yet every time he stands near her, she feels something painfully familiar. A war is approaching. Secrets are buried beneath loyalty. And some love stories are doomed long before they begin. This story is not a fairytale. It is not supposed to make you happy.
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I was in love with a man I knew nothing about. Until I was wedded to the one I was destined for. I thought it would be easy to forget him and move on with my life. I was ready to give it a chance. He had broken my heart, after all. But things don't always go the way you want, do they? Everything changed when I stepped into this marriage and realized it needed me more than I needed it. I had a huge family. A whole line of brothers-in-law and a grumpy sister-in-law, who was also once my best friend. I did as I was told. I didn't even give it a thought, how drastically my life was about to change because of this decision. Love doesn't always bloom roses in your garden. Sometimes, it leaves behind dead trees that never bloom, no matter how many springs come and go. I was that tree. My husband was everything a woman could ask for. I don't know if he hated me or not... but I was certain I couldn't give him the true love he deserved. Every time I think of it, I realize I am just a withered Princess. No matter how many roses my husband blooms for me, I will always be crushed beneath the weight of my past and mistakes. As always, I found myself standing by the window, feeling the cold air kiss my cheeks while my husband slept on the bed behind me. I rubbed my arms to warm myself. The moon was pretty.

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