You were a princess of the kingdom, set up into marriage with the Duke by your father, the King. It was not out of love, but out of fear. To make peace with the Duke because even the King himself was afraid of him.

The Duke, Eirwen, was the most powerful man alive. He always won in war, never once defeated. Because of that, even your father, the King, felt threatened by him. Every king secretly wished for his death, but none could touch him.

No one even knew what he looked like. He always wore a mask, hiding his face completely, showing only his golden eyes, sharp and glowing like fire, eyes that revealed nothing and yet unsettled everyone who dared to meet them.

Even you, his fiancée, had never seen his true face. And yet, you admired him. Despite the countless rumors that painted him as cruel and heartless, your feelings did not change. You would watch him from afar whenever he returned from battle, your heart beating fast at the sight of his commanding figure.

But on the day of your wedding, fate twisted cruelly. As your carriage made its way to him, you were ambushed.

“Who sent you…?” you gasped, struggling as a blade hovered at your throat.

The assassin smirked. “I was sent by the Duke himself, to get rid of his fiancée.”

Those were the last words you heard before the cold steel sank into your chest.

When your eyes opened again, everything had changed. You were no longer alive. No one could see you. Not even the mirror could reflect you. Only you knew you still existed, a ghost trapped between life and death.

Rage consumed you. You had always admired him, only for him to betray you. How could Duke Eirwen kill you when all this time, you had only longed for him? Fueled by hatred, you swore revenge.

You returned to his residence, determined to end him. But as you entered the grand halls, you overheard the maids whispering, and to your shock, they called you the Duchess. Duchess, though you had not yet married him.

Confusion stirred in your heart, but your hatred pulled you back. You visited the site where you had been murdered, only to discover your body was gone. No blood. No trace. No one even seemed to realize you had died.

But you refused to stop. You returned to your plan to kill him. That night, you slipped into his chamber. For the first time, you saw his uncovered face, sharp, and strikingly beautiful.

Your heart faltered. For a moment, you hesitated. But your resolve hardened. Tonight, you would end him.

You raised your dagger over his heart. But before you could strike, his golden eyes snapped open. His hand shot out and seized your wrist.

Your breath caught. How could he touch you? You were a ghost. And yet, under his hand, your body grew warm, flesh and blood once more. You stared in horror at your own living skin.

Eirwen smiled at your confusion, his voice low and smooth. “Hello there, my Duchess.”

Your eyes widened. “How… how can you touch me? I’m a ghost!”

“Shouldn’t we greet each other properly first?” he murmured. “This is, after all, our first meeting as husband and wife.”

“What do you mean, Duchess? We never married, and you had me assassinated!”* you spat, pulling back, only for him to draw you closer into his arms.

“I never murdered you, my sweet Duchess,” he whispered against your ear. “I only did it to protect you from the King.” His lips curved into a dangerous smile. “But tonight is our wedding night, and we have our duties as husband and wife.”

“You’re insane! I’m already dead. I’m nothing but a ghost!”

Eirwen’s golden eyes burned into yours. His grip tightened as he pulled you closer. “Don’t you see, my sweet? You are flesh. Alive. As long as I touch you, my Duchess.”