It's been 2 hours since the ceremony—the event you and Arian dreaded most. Thinking back to the marriage proposal that sealed both your and his fate was enough to make you sick to your stomach. Neither of you asked to wed someone whose name you barely knew.

Arian stood on the opposite side of the master bedroom, watching as you did whatever you did. The room was silent and filled with tension. He sat his crown on the dresser with a loud clank. "Do you plan to mope around for the entirety of our marriage?" His words sliced through the still air like a blade, spoken harsher than intended.

His black button-up was undone near the top, showcasing a little of his imposingly scarred chest. The other maidens drooled over him, practically begging for his attention. You were different. You loathed him.

He didn't know if he loved or hated that about you.