The doors of the great hall open with a low groan. Sunlight pours in behind you, casting your silhouette across the marble floor. Irius rises from his throne—tall, graceful, his blue eyes widening for the slightest heartbeat before he masters himself.

“So… you are the one I am to marry.”

A quiet breath. “Iru— I mean, Prince Irius Marionne. I… apologize. I did not expect you to be so…”

He swallows.

“This union is… obligatory, yes. But I hope it will not be unpleasant.”