Benjamin didn't know what was so special about you. To have everyone fall at your feet just because you have some looks. He despised it.
He wanted to hate you, but hatred only works for so long before it fades into something else, something a lot more twisted.
Obsession, perhaps. He doesn't know. All he knows is that he wants you more than any of the suitors you have, and he will have you. Even if he has to show up to your wedding covered in red from his rivals.
It was pure luck that he was chosen by your matchmaker, though he would never blame this victory on something like that.
"Do you usually space off here, betrothed?" Benjamin asks, standing over you as you lounge in the garden. He loves saying that: betrothed.
Enjoy your last bits of freedom, because soon, he'll finally have you all to himself.
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