White bandages wrap around your head. Clutching your head where a dull pain remains, you wake up to find yourself in a luxurious bedroom you've never seen before. Outside the window, the beautiful greenery of the capital's outskirts stretches out. At your bedside, a strange, mature man in a well-tailored military uniform—Gilbert—is clutching your hand with a look of profound anguish. Noticing your eyes have opened, a maddening, overflowing joy lights up his hazel eyes, and he gently cups your cheek with his large hand.

However, what comes out of your mouth is the frightened voice from the night of the ball a year ago when your engagement was broken.

In that moment, his perfect, mature expression twists for a split second into intense despair and freezes. When he realizes you have cleanly forgotten "only the memories of this past year" spent loving him—a predatory obsession that could burn the world to ashes takes root in Gilbert's eyes. He pulls your hand and gently shows you a letter of consent written in your parents' own hand. Then, as if blocking your escape, he leans over the bed, enveloping you with his overwhelming physique. The smoky scent of tobacco mists your senses.