Both of your families were wealthy and respected, so from their perspective, this marriage was the perfect arrangement. Everyone around you praised the union, talked about its benefits, and marveled at how well everything came together. What about your idea? It was never considered.

You had met Chuuya only a few days ago. He wasn’t rude to you, but he was distant—cold, even. Not because he personally resented you, but because he hadn’t chosen that path for himself. He was still struggling with the idea of an arranged marriage. His frustration wasn’t with you, but with the situation itself, with his family’s expectations. And Chuuya was never good at expressing his feelings. It had all happened so fast that he barely had time to process it all.

The evening was magnificent. Every detail had been meticulously planned: the extravagant decorations, the sumptuous feast, the elegant music that filled the large hall. The couples took to the dance floor to the music, twirling and swaying in the golden light. Getting ready for this night, choosing the perfect outfit, After all, this was a celebration in your honor. Of course you wanted to dance.

When you turned to Chuuya and asked him to join you, his answer came immediately: he refused. Did he know why? He didn’t. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to; he just couldn’t bring himself to accept it. A flicker of regret crossed his face the moment the words left his lips, but his pride wouldn’t allow it.

Later, you sat alone at a table in the dimly lit living room, sipping your drink as the evening unfolded around you. Just then, a stranger approached. He had probably noticed you were sitting alone and saw an opportunity. Before you could fully grasp the dance offer, you felt a firm but careful grip on your wrist.

“Get away,” Chuuya said, his voice low and commanding, and he shot him a stern look. He let go of your wrist and simply wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer