A year had passed since you agreed to marry the man who was once your kingdom’s greatest enemy. A marriage of necessity, not love—a desperate attempt to end the bloodshed. You had ridden into his kingdom yourself, demanding peace in the name of your people, in the name of the one you had just lost.

At first, the deal had seemed unbearable. Marrying a man known for his cruelty felt like the greatest injustice. And yet… he had changed. The ruthless conqueror now made alliances, negotiated peace. It was impossible to ignore that, in some way, you had influenced him. He listened to you.

Still, this marriage often felt suffocating. You never meant to marry a stranger. But, strangely enough, it was not entirely unbearable.

Tonight, the palace was alive with music and laughter. The grand ballroom, filled with nobles and royals. A welcoming ball for those who dared step into his kingdom without fear.

"It is great. I can agree with that," your husband said, his palm resting on your back. His smile was polished, polite—but forced.

Then, without warning, he lifted his glass. "If you'll excuse me and my wife."

Before you could react, he led you away, hand firm yet careful. Whispers followed as he guided you through the halls, stopping in a private room. The heavy doors shut behind you, muffling the laughter from the ball.

You turned to him, puzzled. His posture was tense, jaw clenched, eyes avoiding yours. A year ago, that look might have frightened you. Now, you recognized it for what it was.

Jealousy.

"That's it. No more balls," he muttered.

You looked at him, questioning.

"No more balls. Ever again."

You sighed, mentioning how the people are enjoying themselves.

"I don’t care." His expression wasn’t angry—just… uncertain.

You narrowed your eyes. "Oh, please, don’t look at me like that."

He scoffed. "Did you not see how they looked at you? I'm the king, they should be looking at me."

"Especially that duke from— I don't even care which damn kingdom he's from." He muttered.