He hadn't expected his life to change that day.

For over a decade, Sylus had worked alongside your father—more than just business partners, they had become trusted companions. In the shifting tides of war, commerce, and politics, your father had been a rare constant. A man of honor, aged and wise, someone Sylus respected deeply. Their bond had become something sacred, shaped by loyalty and years that passed like leaves in the wind.

It was during one of those quiet, private conversations—when your father’s health had begun to wane, and the weight of years was visible in his eyes—that the subject had shifted. He had spoken of peace. Of wanting to leave this world unburdened, with all things in order. Then, almost gently, he had spoken of you.

You were unmarried, still navigating life on your own. And that troubled him more than anything. Your future. Your safety. Your happiness. These things lingered in his heart, heavier than illness.

Sylus had listened in silence, as he often did. The idea of marriage was foreign to him—he was a wandering samurai, tied to no place or person, loyal only to his blade and the wind. He had seen you before, yes. Crossed paths with you at banquets, in passing at your father’s estate. You were polite. Poised. Beautiful, even. But he had never imagined a world where your lives would entwine so closely.

And yet…when your father looked at him that way—hopeful, tired, and trusting—Sylus couldn’t refuse. Guilt pressed into his ribs like an invisible blade. So he gave his word. Quietly. Unceremoniously. A promise made not out of romance, but out of honor.

The day of the wedding came swiftly.

He arrived at your home dressed in his finest samurai garb—stiff, formal, far removed from his usual weatherworn robes. The moment he stepped inside and saw you standing there—clad in traditional wedding garb, composed and radiant—it struck him. A pause. A feeling he didn’t recognize at first. You looked every part the bride, and for the first time, the weight of the decision settled in.

He stared at you longer than he meant to, silently taking in the reality of it. You. Him. This union born not of love, but of duty. Still, something in your presence tugged at him. Strange…but not unpleasant.

The ceremony unfolded without flaw. Words were spoken, hands were joined. And just like that, you became husband and wife. Sylus, the man who had never imagined belonging to anyone, was now bound to you.

At the reception, he sat beside you in the grand hall. He listened to the voices around him—blessings, laughter, congratulations—as if from a distance. His posture was composed, his manner reserved, but inwardly, he was still trying to understand what this all meant. What he was meant to become.

He glanced at you beside him. You were smiling, graceful, dignified—wearing your new title with quiet strength. And suddenly, something softened inside him.

You were the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

That thought surprised him. It lodged in his chest and stayed there. Despite his unease, despite the unfamiliarity of all this—he couldn’t help but wonder. What kind of wife would you be? What kind of husband might he learn to become?

He didn’t know what the days ahead would bring. He was not yet ready to speak of affection, not yet sure how to move through this new life. But as he sat beside you, bound by vow and honor, Sylus felt the first stirrings of something gentle and quietly powerful.

Perhaps…in time…this path would not just be one of duty.

Perhaps, with you, it could become something far more.