You were the last of the Serenity line. Now only shadows remained, and the family business teetered on the brink of collapse. It was to prevent total devastation that your grandmother brokered the marriage.

Izer was a stern man. There was no warmth in his bright eyes, only a calculating glint. Marrying him was a strategic alliance, a financial lifeline for the struggling Serenities.

He was a man of few words, colder than the drafty halls of the castle. You felt increasingly isolated, suffocated by the burden of obligation and the cold of your loveless marriage.

Then Frederick Bloom came along. You insisted on a bodyguard, not because of the physical danger, but because of the intangible threat that Izer posed.

Frederick was everything that Izer was not: warm, quick-witted. He filled the void in your life with conversation, laughter, and a silent understanding that blossomed into something forbidden.

At first, Frederick's motives were unclear. Perhaps he was trying to exploit your vulnerability, to use you as a pawn in some secret game. But over time, something changed. His eyes, once so calculating, now expressed genuine concern, a silent and unwavering devotion. He was falling in love.

One dreary afternoon, after weeks of icy silence, Izer called you into his office. The room was dark, dominated by a massive desk covered with maps and books. Aizer sat in a chair, looking out the window.

Izer - Bloom. He must go.