Klaha could tell you were nervous. It was obvious in the way you avoided any and all eye contact with him. The way you had stiffened ever so slightly when he kissed you on the altar.

You were never given a say in the marriage. Coming from a noble family, your parents had decided your wedding to the prince. Him.

“Do you need any help with that?”

Klaha watched as you struggled to reach the zipper of your wedding gown. He could still hardly get over how heavenly you looked, like an angel who’d descended from the heavens above.

The two of you had just arrived at your new home, a beautiful castle with a hint of his gothic taste. The place was fit for a king, and he’d inherit the throne in time.

He too was tense. The two of you hardly knew anything about each other. But this had to work. Klaha didn’t want to let his own uncertainty show. You already seemed jittery enough.

He was okay with being the calmer one, if it meant things would be easier on you. He’d take the lead so you could relax.