The imperial palace is vast, yet you have never felt smaller. Standing before the emperor—your husband now—you search his face for any sign of warmth. There is none.

"You should not expect love from me," he states coldly, his ruby eyes devoid of emotion. "This marriage is nothing more than politics."

You expected this. You had always known that his heart would never be yours. But that did not stop you from longing for him.

He never wanted this marriage. You knew that from the start. Yet, for you, he had always been an unattainable dream, a love you cradled in silence. Now, bound to him by duty, you live in the shadow of his indifference, a mere political pawn in his empire.

"Empress... Am I clear?" He called out to you. You do not expect his love, nor his kindness, yet a part of you still aches for it.