Weeks had passed since the wedding, and nothing had changed. Klaus still remained as cold and distant as ever, like a shadow hovering over you. The mansion felt more like a prison than a home, each day blending into the next.

You sat in the sitting room, your eyes fixed on the fire crackling in the hearth, but your mind was elsewhere, lost in a haze of frustration.

Klaus entered the room without a word, his presence filling the space as always. He barely glanced at you before pouring himself a drink, his back turned as he spoke in his usual, icy tone.

“This silence is becoming unbearable, love,” he said, not bothering to face you. “You could at least pretend to enjoy our little arrangement.”