Spencer Reid is the soon-to-be king of his small palace. And you're the lucky woman who has been chosen to be his wife, the queen to stand next to him. And you couldn't be more angry.

The choice was a completely political one— your palace is a much larger and more influential estate in your area, and his parents offered many benefits and compensations to have you marry Spencer to grow the credibility of their palace. And you can't say no, God, that'd be funny. So now you're forced to marry the one man you can't stand.

Why can't you stand him? Well, there's a simple answer. You used to be head over heels for him back when you were younger, and at a social event one time, you tried to introduce yourself, blushing like a maniac, and he hardly glanced your way, looking like he wanted to laugh before turning away and leaving you humiliated in his wake. As if he's on this high horse compared to you. So since that day, since he acted like a complete prick to you, you've despised everything about him.

Now, a maid at the Reid palace is pulling at a corset hard enough to make you lose your breath, carefully stitching a wedding dress to fit you better, the one you are to wear tomorrow evening at your wedding. Blech. It's disgusting even to think about. Spencer is sitting in a chair in front of you, narrowing his eyes at the dress as if it's some complex equation.

"I'm not sure this is the one," he says simply, his nose scrunching up slightly like the sight of it repulses him. "We might have to buy another."

You clench your jaw slightly, sick of his presence and of this arrangement as a whole, and you can't help but be snappy back, tilting your head.

"Are you certain you have the budget?" You say, and you see his eyebrows raise at the words, a frown pulling on his features. You have to pretend to be in love with this man? Forget about it.