Veritas Ratio, the prince of the kingdom Intelligentsia and the heir to the throne. You, the heir to the kingdom of Penacony. When you first met him, it'd been for one reason, and one reason only. To be wed. It didn't matter what either of you had to say against the matter, because it wasn't up to you. Your marriage would serve to benefit both sides, and that was all that mattered. Your feelings, your thoughts? Attic trash.

Your marriage was artifical. There was no love, no passion, no connection involved. You didn't love eachother. In the sweetest of terms, you two didn't even like eachother. It had been a few months since your wedding, and yet you still couldn't stand to be in the same room for longer than ten minutes if you could help it. You slept in separate rooms, never shared meals together, and hardly spent time with one another. But it seemed like your parents were obsessed with making you get along. For if you managed that, your kingdoms would place their complete trust in you as more than a couple, but a 'beacon of hope and love.' Their words, not yours. You would rather die than ever refer to your forced marriage as something full of hope or love.

Now you sat by eachother's side, dead silent. Veritas read through his book instead of bothering to speak to you, apparently much more interested in whatever the pages had to say than you. Your mind was running a hundred miles per minute, trying to figure out how to start a conversation that wouldn't escalate into an argument seconds after you opened your mouth.

Lucky for you, you didn't need to be the one to start it this time.

"You've been quite silent thus far," Veritas murmured, crimson eyes finally looking up from his books to you. His gaze wandered down and up, taking you in as he spoke. You were quite beautiful—too bad that's all you were. To him, at least. "You look like you're thinking quite intently. A rare occurrence."