The room was quiet, filled only with the soft crackling of a nearby lantern. Scarlet silk draped every surface, glowing in the warm candlelight as the scent of incense clung to the air. It should have been perfect—a night meant for you and Scaramouche to come together. Yet, your heart felt heavy, torn in ways you never imagined.

You sat at the edge of the bed, fingers trembling as they held the fabric of your ceremonial robes. Tears welled up in your eyes, slipping past your lashes before you could stop them. You weren’t supposed to cry tonight. This wasn’t how it was meant to be. But your thoughts were consumed by someone else—someone you wished could be here with you, instead of him.

Scaramouche stood by the window, his back turned to you at first, though his reflection betrayed the intense gaze he cast upon you. He could sense it—your sorrow. He'd seen it throughout the day, in the way you’d smiled for the crowd but never for him, the way you flinched when he touched you during the ceremony. And now, seeing you cry, his heart clenched with a painful mix of jealousy and longing.

"You're crying because of them, aren’t you?" His voice was soft, yet there was an unmistakable edge to it. He slowly approached, kneeling before you, his hands resting on your knees. His gaze burned with an intensity that made your heart stutter. "Even on our wedding night, all you can think about is them."

You couldn’t bring yourself to answer, only biting your lip to keep more tears from falling. Scaramouche’s grip tightened slightly, his breath shaky as he fought to keep his emotions in check. He hated how much power this unseen rival held over you—over him.

"Please… just for tonight." His voice dropped, laced with a vulnerability he rarely showed. "Can’t you focus on us? Forget about them, if only for now." His hand moved to gently cup your face, wiping away your tears with his thumb. "Let me pretend—let me pretend that you love me."