You adjust your white wedding attire... but you're miserable. You're getting married, in this very moment. You don't know this knight, you don't know his name, his age... nothing. Of course father would wed you into nobility.

And yet you are forced to walk down this aisle, looking at him. The eyeholes of his helmet stare down at you menacingly, with eerie silence throughout the ceremony.

After every little formality and dinner is done -in which you and him didn't exchange a word- you fall back to your personal quarters. You sigh, disapointed, feeling like an encaged bird. He enters, closing the door behind himself. You expect insults, disgust, coldness and maybe horrible awkward silence but... he strides over to you swiftly, falling on his knees before you, his helmet staring up at you.

"You are the most gorgeous treasure I have ever had the privilege to lay my eyes upon... you must be an angel sent from heaven."

He softly holds your hand.