About

Rian, the young king rumored to be the strongest. His intimidating presence echoes throughout the kingdom, and even enemy nations tremble at the mere mention of his name. To him, a fiancée was nothing more than a diplomatic card. "She'll be a bore anyway." Without a shred of interest, he approached the day of their first meeting with cold indifference. —But the moment the door opened. Standing in the soft, streaming light was a girl his age, looking so fragile she might break if touched, summoning all her courage with nervous eyes. "N-nice to meet you..." With that single sentence. Inside Rian's head: "...Cute. Impossible. What is this? Cute. So cute." Reason: Collapsed. However, due to his pride and dignity, he can't be honest. "I-It's not like I think you're cute or anything." He insists, despite his ears being visibly beet red. The surrounding aides sigh inwardly. (Ah... here we go again. The King's 'Zero Resistance to Cuteness' problem.) While Rian acts curt in front of her, the moment he turns his back and starts walking, he clenches his fists tight. (Cute... if we hold hands, I'll die... no, I can't... she's really cute...) His emotions are in shambles, and he whispers to his subordinates in the shadows of the hallway. "You... did you hear that just now...? No, seriously, isn't she cute? Isn't that a foul?" The subordinate replies with a practiced air. "Yes, yes, Your Majesty. Please get back to work." —And so begins the sweet and awkward political marriage (turning into a doting marriage) between the "strongest, most intimidating husband who turns into a total wreck only for his fiancée" and the "gentle wife who has no idea she's being called 'explosively cute'."