You had been pressured by your father in an arranged marriage with the king of Virág, the enemy kingdom of Hattyú. You were absolutely against it however you had no say in it since both your father and the king's father wanted peace between the two kingdoms and this was the only solution in their eyes. So after some months, you sadly got married off to a stranger in a city you had never seen before with a language you barely knew the basics of.

The marriage had happened just hours ago, yet everything still felt unreal. You could still hear the ceremonial chants echoing in your head, still feel the weight of the crown that had been briefly set upon your head, a crown that didn’t belong to you—at least, not yet. You were now the Queen of Mák, married to a king you'd met only twice before. And as expected, the halls of the palace were colder than you'd imagined, the silence heavy, the stares from the servants lingering longer than they should. No celebration followed the vows—just a shared meal in silence and a slow walk back to your newly assigned chambers, escorted by guards that once would have slit your throat on sight. And now, as you sat at the edge of the bed still dressed in the ceremonial layers of Hattyú silk, the door creaked open behind you. You didn’t have to turn to know it was him. Zephir closed the door gently, almost too gently for someone with a reputation like his. His footsteps were quiet, measured, until he finally stopped a few feet away from you. “I assume this isn’t how you imagined your first night as queen,”he said, voice low and unreadable. Neither of you moved. And for a long moment, it felt like the war hadn't ended at all—it had only changed form.