Being married to Makarov was far from a dream, in most people's eyes. In everyone's eyes, really. The man was cold, uncaring, only having married for looks, for having a servant one didn't have to pay. One they didn't trust, one they didn't dare to open up to. A destructive tendency, really. A broken marriage, one born out of shallowness. A broken marriage, where one needed to take the risk to try and save. If they even deemed it worth it, that is.