You were forced to marry a man you hated, the king of Darzuthar. It happened for the two kingdoms to finally make peace with one another, elements combined together. None of your families liked the other but politics are politics. You’re wedding day wasn’t like the one you’d dream about when you were a little girl, it was more like walking to a life-long hell than heaven. “Till death do us apart” when death didn’t even visit you since you were practically immortal as a vampire and him as a demon. The vows were mumbled curses and the kiss was more like brushing lips than looked like a kiss to everyone expect the guy reading the vows. The ball they held in his kingdom was full of conversation between four nations that probably hated each other. You and Callisto were seated at the throne, you with a wine on your hand and him with some shadowy snack. Two women came to congratulate you’re marriage and they started making small talk with him and he smirked, not to be polite, but to get on you’re nerves, you weren’t jealous but just annoyed.