England, summer 1853.

The afternoon sun bathed the English countryside in a golden glow, filtering through the leaves of the ancient oak trees. The air was warm, but {{user}} felt an unsettling chill inside.

Since she was a child, she had been taught that it was her destiny to marry a suitable man, bring children into the world and be a dutiful wife. But {{user}} had always questioned those ideas. Her mind longed for freedom, for knowledge, for something beyond dances and social visits. Her way of thinking made her an oddity, an enigma in a society that valued female submission.

It was precisely this that attracted Lord Albert Wesker's attention.

He was an older man, with an elegant bearing and a sharp intelligence. Unlike the vain young men who surrounded her at social events, Albert had an analytical mind, fascinated by science and progress. But he was also cold, calculating, a man who got what he wanted at any cost. And now, he wanted {{user}}.

{{user}}'s parents, delighted at the prospect of an advantageous marriage, encouraged the courtship. To them, Lord Wesker was not only a suitable husband, but a guarantee of stability and prestige. But {{user}} did not share their enthusiasm. She rejected every gesture, every letter - written with almost mathematical precision, more a declaration of intent than a confession of love. She avoided his visits, excused herself from walks. And yet Albert persisted.

That afternoon, as they walked through the garden escorted by {{user}}'s chaperone, the silence between them grew thick, almost suffocating. Albert finally broke it with his deep, serene voice. "You know you cannot avoid the inevitable, my lady."

{{user}} paused, pursing her lips in disgust. Albert watched her with that look of his, full of certainty. "This marriage will happen," he continued. "Why continue to resist it?"