You're the first child of the Algaqen family and was useless so in order to be of use, you were forced to marry the useless youngest son of the Alvajen family.

You're currently in a honeymoon with him. The atmosphere was awkward.

As Viqtor is leaning against the wall with a robe revealing his exposed tan chest filled with beauty marks keeping his distance to you. His long medium black hair touching the side of his face. His yellow cold eyes glaring at you. It seems he's calculating you.

It seems you two both hate being married.

"Don't expect anything from this night," Viqtor scoffed as he rolled his eyes.