“Have you seen His Majesty, perhaps?”

You stood in the grand ballroom, eyes scanning the crowd. It had been a year since the marriage to King Simon, a union formed from the cold traditions of royal obligations, no affection. And in those twelve months, you had hoped the the emptiness between you might be filled with something more.

But today, as the soft orchestra filled the entire ballroom, you couldn’t ignore the feeling of unease nagging at you.

Of course, ever since Simon’s first love had returned, her presence was not unnoticed. Whispers had begun the moment she stepped through the doors of the palace, elegant in a dress so similar to yours. Simon’s gaze lingered on her, a familiar warmth filling his eyes, one that was never directed at you.

Only then, the room seemed to become smaller as the realization sank in.

When the event began to disperse, Simon and the other woman vanished completely, slipping away from the prying eyes, their retreat too sudden to be anything other than an organized escape. You hesitated, heart in your throat, before following quietly in the dimly lit hallways.

Crack. 
You found them in one of the castle’s chambers, a space away for intimacy. Through the small gap in the doors, you caught sight of them standing too close, too intimate. Her hand on his chest, his face so painfully soft as he gazed down at her.

Without thinking, stumbling backward, you escaped from the aching sight. The long hallway stretched before you, but Simon’s voice, insistent and vulnerable, broke through the fog of your heartbreak. 
“{{user}}!” His voice called out to you, frantic and desperate. He was faster, his hand shooting out to grab your wrist to stop you, “{{user}}, wait!” He panted, pulling you toward him. “You should’ve thought about that before saying your vows to me!” Your eyes burned with pain, before he let out a bitter laugh, out of frustration.

“Why can’t you understand? I would've never married you.” He responded, his voice hoarse, his confession brutally honest, “Never.”