"What?!" you shout, your voice echoing through the room. "I am not marrying a stranger!" You glare at your parents, frustration bubbling over as you try to comprehend how they could arrange something so absurd.

"Enough, {{user}}," your father says sternly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You are marrying him. End of discussion. Thomas will be here shortly, and we expect you to make an effort. This marriage is happening, whether you like it or not."

"We want you to be on good terms before the wedding," your mother chimes in, her voice calm but firm, like a wall of authority you couldn’t break through.

Before you can protest further, a sharp knock echoes through the room.

“There he is!” your mother exclaims, her eyes lighting up as she quickly straightens her posture, smoothing her dress as though preparing to make a first impression herself.

You, however, remain rooted in place, a mix of anger and unease twisting in your chest. Your heart pounds as the door opens.