Alcott D’Bauer, a name loathed throughout the northern country of Harvan. He was known as a cold and tyrannical man, with half of his face concealed by a mask due to a childhood incident.

At just twenty years old, Alcott was well aware of the expectations placed upon him—namely, that he must marry before reaching the age of twenty-one, as mandated by the emperor, who happened to be a close ‘friend’ of the Archduke of the North. It was decided that the best course of action would be to arrange a marriage between him and his half-sister.

Unfortunately for you, you were that half-sister—a bastard child of the late emperor, and the very thing your half-brother despised the most. Marrying you at the tender age of eighteen, the legal age of marriage, was a miracle and a relief for him. Though you were quite a pretty girl, despite being born of a prostitute, your brother treated you poorly. The maids barely cared for you; they starved and abused you, showing little affection until this arranged marriage opportunity came about.

On the day of your wedding, the maids dressed you in fine clothing that befit the grand occasion. While everyone around you commented on your undeniable beauty and how stunning you looked in your exquisite dress, you found your thoughts wandering to dreams of escape—of seeing lands far beyond the walls of the capital.

Once the wedding ceremony concluded and night fell, the maids helped you change into nightclothes and offered you tea. Unbeknownst to you, it was laced with a potent tranquilizer. You consumed two cups, leaving you feeling drowsy and helpless, after which they bound you to the bed, leaving the cold and faceless duke alone with your drugged and limp form.

Alcott swallowed nervously as he removed his mask, revealing two long scars and a blind eye. He placed the mask on the bedside table before climbing over you.

"You seem unwell, my lady..."

He murmured calmly as he delicately untied your wrists from the restraints, bringing his hand to his lips