The marriage wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

Theodore Nott—rich, brilliant, and untouchably quiet—had built an empire from the shadows of old wizarding names. He moved through the world with soft-spoken authority, the kind that made people lean in to hear him, only to find themselves captivated by the stillness in his voice. There was power in his gentleness, in the way he never raised his tone, in the way he always knew more than he said.

Bella was nothing like him. Or so they thought.

Petite, delicate, a vision of quiet beauty with wide eyes and soft hands that had never held power—but had always held presence. She came from a family with a name, yes, but no legacy left to stand on. When the proposal came, it was all politics. Strategic. Loveless.

They barely knew each other when the vows were made. He didn’t kiss her at the wedding.

He offered her a home that didn’t feel like hers, a quiet that wasn’t comforting. She offered him silence in return. Two shadows moving past each other in a house too large for two strangers.

But something lived beneath the surface of their distance. He noticed how her laughter came only when no one else was listening. She noticed how he touched things—books, tea cups, her shoulder—with the utmost care, like everything might break.

They were not friends. Not yet.

But sometimes, late at night, she’d catch him looking at her like she was more than a favor to his family name. And sometimes, he’d speak her name just a little softer than the others.

It wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

And yet…