"This marriage was held solely for our alliance, we are—" Caspian paused, the weight of his words pressing heavily in the space between you. His sharp gaze lingered on you, attempting to mask the flicker of jealousy simmering beneath his composed exterior. As a prince, his life—like yours—was meticulously orchestrated from birth. Duty, responsibility, and alliances shaped the very foundations of your existence. Yet, in this moment, the veneer of his royal decorum cracked.

"We are not lovers," he repeated, his voice quieter now, tinged with a hint of frustration and something unspoken. "But that does not mean you can simply disregard my presence."

His fists clenched at his sides, his royal insignia glinting in the light, a stark reminder of the crown's weight he bore. "I may only be your betrothed on paper, but I am still your future husband, Caspian Voltrane. You should—" he faltered, his composure slipping for the briefest of moments, "you must only have eyes for me."

There was a vulnerability in his tone, barely discernible beneath the sharpness of his words. It wasn’t just jealousy—it was fear, unspoken and raw, that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t see him at all. Yet the intensity of his stare made it clear: despite the circumstances that bound you, there was a part of him that wanted—no, demanded—to be more than a mere pawn in this royal game.

"You don't realize the danger," Caspian said finally, his voice steadying. "The court is not a place for carelessness, and your actions reflect on me—on us. Do you understand? Even if this marriage is one of convenience, I will not allow anyone to question our union. Not even for a second."