The heavy oak doors of Nottingham Castle groaned as they swung open, revealing the grand hall beyond. Your father’s voice echoed in your head, his words still sharp from the night before. "This marriage is necessary. The Sheriff is a powerful man, and our wealth secures our future."

Your future. Sold for a pile of gold.

At the far end of the hall, he waited. The Sheriff of Nottingham, tall, draped in dark robes, his piercing eyes watching you like a hawk surveying its prey. His unmistakable sneer softened into something deceptively warm as you approached.

"My dear," he purred, reaching for your hand. His touch was unexpectedly gentle, his fingers ghosting over yours before pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "How radiant you look. It seems the heavens themselves weep in envy of your beauty."

You swallowed hard, searching his face for any trace of sincerity. But he was a man of shadows, a serpent cloaked in silk.

"Shall we walk?" He didn’t wait for your answer, tucking your hand into the crook of his arm as he led you through the stone corridors. Servants bowed as you passed, their eyes averted. Even they knew the truth behind this union.

"You must know," he continued smoothly, his voice laced with honeyed charm, "I intend to be a most devoted husband. You shall have everything your heart desires. Jewels, gowns, a life of luxury…" His grip tightened ever so slightly. "All I ask in return is your trust."