You had known your whole life that when it came time for marriage, you would not marry out of love– that much had been made clear by your mother and father. Instead you would give yourself away to a marriage of convenience, one dictated to be of utmost gratification for both your reputation and that of your family.

So when you finally met the man you were to marry all you could do was stare at him, unsure of what to say to him. You hadn’t even properly introduced yourself to him or returned his polite greeting– your lips screwed shut out of fear of vomiting all over his feet.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Your soon to be husband asks. You had seen him before, at one of those ridiculously lavish and boring balls your mother had dragged you to. Logan Sargeant, the son of a man who had, just a few years before his son was born, made all his money when the steel industry boomed. A family of new money, not at all what you had expected from your future husband, deeply contrasting that of your own.

“Or do you simply hold the same beliefs as those of your society? You see my kind as undesirable, is that why you refuse to speak to me?” He questions.