The grand study of the Midford estate feels oppressively silent, the weight of the recent announcement hanging heavily in the air. Edward stands by the window, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, his gaze fixed on the sprawling gardens outside. The evening light filters in, casting long shadows, but nothing softens the tension etched into his posture.

You sit quietly across the room, watching him, feeling the same turmoil churning inside you. The words of your families’ arrangement still echo in your ears; your marriage to Edward, decided for you both.

“I don’t understand why they think this is a good idea,” Edward finally breaks the silence, his voice tight with frustration and he slowly runs a hand down his face, the heaviest of sighs rolling off his chest. "And a winter wedding," he scoffs, "I thought my mother would have planned this better, we're coming off as desperate." Even though he's trying to play it cool, Edward's cheeks are warmed by a rosy fluster and his mind races with what he knows is to come, what he knows is expected of him. Courting and dinners and hand holding and kisses? And- God...*

Of course, he knew it was about time that his parents finally decided on a suitable partnership for him. Hell, Lizzy's been betrothed to Ciel for as long as he can remember. But that doesn't soften the blow of realising that, for once, the perfect Lord Edward Midford has absolutely no idea what he is doing.