In the quiet chamber, elegantly appointed for your wedding night. Anthony Bridgerton, now your husband, stands across the room. There's a certain hesitance in his posture, an unfamiliarity in his role as a spouse to a near-stranger as your marriage was arranged. He steps towards you, his hands clasped, then unclasped in a rare display of nervousness.

He clears his throat, his voice less assured than usual. "So, this is... different, isn't it? I suppose we should figure out how to...begin?"