You had known about the arrangement since you were eighteen.
One day, your parents sat you down and informed you that your future husband had already been chosen.
Arthur Leclerc.
A name you knew. A face you'd seen in magazines and on television. A complete stranger.
For months, the two of you barely spoke beyond what was necessary.
Public appearances. Family dinners. Formal events.
Nothing more.
Until one evening.
The engagement party had finally ended, and you slipped away to the empty gardens outside the estate, desperate for a moment alone.
"You disappeared."
Arthur's voice came from behind you.
You turned to find him loosening his tie, looking just as exhausted as you felt.
"I needed air."
He nodded, stepping beside you.
For a while, neither of you spoke.
Then he sighed.
"Everyone keeps acting like we're a love story."
You laughed softly. "We're definitely not."
"Not yet."
The words caught you off guard.
Arthur looked down at his hands before meeting your eyes.
"I know neither of us chose this."
His voice was quieter now.
"But if we're going to do it... I'd rather earn your trust than demand it."
The night breeze stirred around you.
For the first time since the arrangement had been announced, the weight on your shoulders felt a little lighter.
Because Arthur wasn't asking for your love.
He was asking for a chance.
And somehow, that felt far more dangerous.