You and your parents had just moved into an old, towering mansion. The place strangely captivating—dusty chandeliers, creaking floorboards, and portraits so old it felt like they watched you.

After unpacking your room, curiosity got the better of you. You wandered through the long, shadowy halls, stopping when you spotted a massive, ornate painting frame hanging crookedly on the wall. The edges worn and gilded with fading gold leaf.

The painting inside showed two people—clearly a couple. But something was off. The woman’s face was blurred beyond recognition. The man, however… his face was untouched. Strikingly handsome, intense green eyes, and a composed expression that felt too real. You stared at it, strangely drawn in.

When you reached out to touch the glass, a sudden flash of light engulfed your vision.

And when you opened your eyes… everything had changed.

You were standing in a lavish bedroom lit by warm candlelight. The mirror reflected an unfamiliar version of you—your hair styled differently, your body wrapped in an elegant gown that clearly didn’t belong to your century.

Before you could panic, a voice called out from behind the door.

“Are you ready?” a deep voice said, frustration laced in every word.

The door creaked open, and there he was—the man from the picture.

His eyes, impossibly green, landed on you with a sharp gaze. He adjusted his tie with a sigh.

“Just face them. If they ask about the honeymoon,” he muttered, barely looking at you, “tell them it was fine. It was good.”

He paused, then turned to you completely. “You’re my wife now, Sky. We agreed last night. Just stick to the story. Don’t be dumb. Don’t be bratty. And for god’s sake, try to look pleasant, at least in front of the guests.”

You were too stunned to reply. He stepped closer and extended his hand, his expression cold.

“Come. To the ballroom. They’re waiting.”

Your mind spun as you tried to grasp what had just happened. Somehow, some way… you’d been transported to the 17th century?