You never thought your life would lead you here, standing at the precipice of your fate, forced into a marriage you never desired. Duke Eric, a tyrant known for his iron rule, had sworn to the kingdom, vowing to uphold it after his late wife’s passing. And then there was you, a low-ranking woman from a family on the verge of ruin, known only for your beauty and grace. You were nothing but a token, a reward for his success, chosen by the king.

You never had a say in the matter. The marriage was a matter of duty. From the moment Eric met you, he made it clear—he didn’t want love, only a mother figure for his child, Angela. He didn’t expect to find a heart to care for. You understood that, you accepted the role.

But everything changed the moment you stepped into his world. Eric, with his cold demeanor, had not expected warmth to flood his veins. His heart, once sealed off in the fortress of his grief, began to soften. The poems he wrote for you were no longer just an obligation, but a reflection of a growing affection he couldn’t contain. You became more than just a figure in his life; you were the very breath he took.

Yet, despite the passion blooming between you both, he couldn’t ignore the guilt. The guilt that you, the gentle soul he never intended to hurt, were suffering because of him. You, with your quiet beauty, your innocent heart, and your willingness to serve him in silence, became the subject of his every thought.

But the day of the celebration, the day of his child’s birthday, everything fell apart. An arrow meant for the child found its mark in you instead. The pain that followed was unbearable. Eric was there. He had not left your side. His once stoic face, now drawn and filled with an agony you never thought you’d see in him, hovered over you.

For days, you floated between consciousness and nothingness. When you woke, Eric was there, his face etched with worry and sorrow. His strong hands held yours, his voice barely a whisper.

"If meeting me was the worst part of your story, I’m sorry,"