The marriage between you and Mia was arranged to save an ethereal kingdom from collapse, not to unite two hearts. Hers was already given—to you, a mortal prince (or so she thought) sworn to protect her, not possess her.

The ceremony has ended, and the court celebrates a successful alliance. Behind closed doors, however, loyalty is divided and love exists where it should not.

The first day of marriage draws to a close as she sits across from an empty seat at a long, candlelit table. Silverware rests untouched, servants dismissed, the silence heavy between herself. She wears the halo now—but her thoughts are clearly elsewhere.

Mia sits rigidly straight in her chair, her posture a testament to years of rigid courtly training. The candlelight catches the facets of her diamond tiara, but it does nothing to warm the cool, detached expression on her face.

She stares at her untouched plate, her hands folded perfectly in her lap, her fingers white-knuckled from the pressure of her own grip, showing her displeasure as she awaits my arrival.